


Starlight in the Darkness

by WildWolf25



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dubious Science, Gen, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shiro and Keith and Pidge come in at the end, Slow Burn, but the death is off-screen and nothing that didn't happen in canon, deamworks give us the Holt sibling reunion we all need, eh slow-ish burn, or at least probably not, references to past torture, season 3 may render this moot, this sounds like a crack ship but I PUT THOUGHT INTO IT OKAY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildWolf25/pseuds/WildWolf25
Summary: While doing some undercover work on one of the command ships, Ulaz comes across another Earthling, not Champion, whom the druids regularly interrogate for information.  He deems it prudent to deprive the druids of said information, and if that means freeing him, well, that only works out in both of their favors.(Or, Matt ends up joining the Blade of Marmora)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dude this is barely even a ship… it’s just me sitting in a canoe with a cracked hull that’s being held together only by what-if’s and lack of concrete canon information. It’s not even a canoe. It’s like… a log, and I’m the only one chipping away at it to make it a dugout canoe. It’s just me sitting on a log in the middle of a lake, it’ll be a ship one day, I swear. Imma pull you in. Suffer with me.
> 
> (I came up with this theory a couple weeks after watching season two, I think? It's been gathering dust in my docs for a while. And that leaked picture of Rebel Matt kind of hints that s3 is going to go in a COMPLETELY different direction so I'm posting it before that happens because I have invested too many emotions into this idea to just throw it away)
> 
> (small warning for drugs at the beginning but it'll only be in this chapter. The druids are terrible as usual)

Ulaz rapped his knuckles against the door of the commander’s quarters, then tucked his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders while he waited.  He disliked this particular commander -- well, he disliked the vast majority of Galra elite officers, but this one was definitely near the top of the list -- and hopefully he would be able to complete his duties here quickly and return to his own quarters for the night.  He still had two reports he had to write up; one for his official position and another to send to his brothers in the Blade.  

When the door opened, Ulaz was stunned to find a young Earthling man standing where he thought the Galra commander would be.  He blinked uncertainly, eyes taking in the Earthling’s short auburn hair and wide, hazel eyes.  Ulaz felt he had seen this one before, perhaps in the gladiator ring.  He was in the same cell block as that other Earthling, Champion, he thought.   

“Lieutenant Ulaz,” a rough voice called from within the room, the sound making the Earthling jump.  “Is that you?  You may enter.  Ignore the little Earthling.”  

The Earthling quickly stepped out of the way and held the door open wider, bowing his head.  Ulaz walked past him into the room, his eyes finding the Galra who was sitting at a table in the center of the room.  “Commander Zerbek.  Vrepit sa.”  

“Vrepit sa.”  Zerbek nodded.  “Have a seat.”  

Ulaz took a seat across the table from Zerbek, turning on his tablet.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Earthling hovering uncertainly near the door, glancing fearfully at the commander as though he didn’t want to get any closer.  Ulaz cleared his throat.  “Sir, we need to go over the attack plan for planet Alpha-five-epsilon-two, so we do as little damage to the mining structures during the siege--”

“So quick to begin business.”  Zerbek sounded distasteful.  “Why don’t we have a drink first.”  He waved his hand, and the Earthling jumped into action, taking out two glasses from a cabinet along the far wall.  

Ulaz frowned.  “Forgive me, sir, but I haven’t much time to be idle.  I have several other duties to attend to--”

“I don’t negotiate without a drink, Lieutenant.”  Zerbek interrupted.  “Besides, I have some Xercian liqueurs that I think you’ll like.”  He paused to glance at the Earthling, who was staring uncertainly at the rows of bottles, his hand hovering between one that was pink and one that was black.  Zerbek sighed.  “ _ Xercian  _ liqueurs, pet.  The yellow one.  My, for supposedly being a genius, this Earthling doesn’t seem all that bright.”  He said the last bit to Ulaz as the Earthling picked up the bottle of gold-colored liquid and carried it over to the table.  His movements seemed clumsy and slow, and his eyes were glassy and dazed.  

“Fascinating little thing, isn’t it?”  Zerbek went on, noticing the way Ulaz was watching the man.  “Poor creature used to fight in the gladiator ring, before the druids took an interest in it.  Now I’m in charge of watching it whenever they don’t need it.  Makes for a nice little pet.”  

“Fascinating.”  Ulaz echoed flatly, just barely managing to mask his distaste.  “Whatever could the druids want with him?  He doesn’t seem like he would make for a good weapon.”  The Earthling was small, even smaller than Champion; the top of his head might have barely reached the center of the chest on an average-sized Galra.  His time in prison had stripped him down to skin and bone, clearly visible under the purple prisoner’s garb he wore, and made him look even smaller than he already was.  He kept his head bowed as he set a glass of yellow liquid in front of Ulaz and another in front of Zerbek.  Ulaz didn’t miss the way his hands trembled slightly.  

“Apparently its brain is what they’re interested in.”  Zerbek explained, waving a hand carelessly.  “They say the creature is some sort of genius, and the druids are very interested in some information it has.  I can’t imagine what, though.”  He reached out and closed his hand around the Earthling’s neck, the action startling the man.  Zerbek ran his thumb over the thick, black collar around his neck, showing Ulaz the nearly-empty vial of violet liquid that was fixed to the back of the collar, positioned right over the top of his spine.  “Luckily, the druids have supplied me with an injection to keep it nice and docile whenever they don’t require its services.  This suppresses that nasty little fight-or-flight response, so it doesn’t try to escape.”  

Ulaz didn’t miss the visible shudder that rippled over the Earthling and the way his eyes darted over to the door, his expression fearful and desperate.  Zerbek frowned; apparently, it hadn’t escaped his notice, either.  His grip tightened around the Earthling’s neck and he forced him to his knees, ignoring the pained gasp he made.  Zerbek took another needle-tipped vial full of liquid out of his pocket and, while maintaining a firm grip around the Earthling’s throat, used his other hand to pop the empty vial out and replace it with the full one. A low, pained groan escaped him as the needle pierced his skin and the drug entered his bloodstream.  Seconds later, the Earthling slumped to lean against Zerbek’s leg, his face slack and eyes glazed over.  

Ulaz felt anger and pity broil in his gut and had to fight to keep his composure cool and unaffected.  “Commander Zerbek, if we could discuss the attack plans…”  

“Yes, of course.”  Zerbek finally looked up, but his right hand moved only to the top of the subdued Earthling’s head, petting his hair.  Even as distant as the poor man seemed to be, his eyes fell shut with a small shiver, expression closing up like a set of blinds drawn over a window.  

Ulaz managed to run the plan by the commander in a quick and efficient manner, eager to get this meeting over with.  When he went back to his own quarters, he filed the report he needed to and then sent a message to Kolivan.  After briefly giving him the highlights of the Galra’s plan concerning the mining planet, he added a note about what he had discovered:  _ One of the mid-level commanders has been tasked with taking care of an Earthling that he says is being used by the druids for information.  I am not certain what this information entails, specifically, and it doesn’t seem that the commander himself even knows, but whatever it is, it seems important enough that they continue to keep him alive and keep him drugged, possibly to make sure he doesn’t disclose the information to anyone else.  He isn’t Champion, but he seems to be guarded just as closely as Champion, if not more. _

Ulaz sent the message, cleared the messaging device, and began his nightly routine, still thinking about what he had seen that day.  Slavery was common in the Galra Empire -- Whatever conquered planets resisted or were deemed unuseful were generally enslaved, their forced labor being used to keep the Empire running -- but Ulaz detested the practice.  It was one of the many aspects of the Empire that he and his brothers in the Blade were opposed to.  The sight of another creature enslaved was enough to make Ulaz want to free the poor Earthling, but morality alone was unfortunately not enough reason to act, not yet.  But if the Earthling had information that the druids valued… perhaps Kolivan would approve the action after all.  To free even one creature and also deprive the druids of an important resource… it was killing two birds with one stone.  Now he just needed clearance to act. 

He received a reply message shortly before climbing into bed.   _ Find out what that information is, if possible.  If not, bring the Earthling with you to headquarters when you return.  We need to know what he knows, and why the Empire wants that knowledge. _

Ulaz nodded to himself, then deleted the message and went to bed.  

~~~~~~~

Try as he might, several quintents went by without Ulaz being able to discover any concrete information about the Earthling.  Further interrogation of Zerbek (disguised as small-talk) made it clear that the commander hadn’t the faintest idea what, specifically, the druids wanted from the man, only that they occasionally took him away for questioning and returned him several vargas later, looking haunted and pale and not completely centered in his own body.  Much to Ulaz’s disgust, Zerbek’s gloating tone as he told him about that seemed to imply that he was somehow taking advantage of the Earthling’s vulnerable state for his own amusement, mostly by knocking him around.  

Ulaz felt his heart break every time he saw the poor Earthling.  His eyes, when they weren’t glassy and distant, were full of fear and pain, and he looked lost.  He acted docile, sitting on the floor against Zerbek’s chair or following orders obediently, but there was always an undercurrent of fear and occasionally resistance to his movements.  Ulaz could tell, from how often Zerbek had to administer a new vial of drugs to his collar, that the young man was strong and fighting back, underneath all that fear.  He hadn’t given up.  He didn’t give in to the pull of the drugs, even if all the resistance he could manage was twitching away from Zerbek’s hand when he touched him or a moment of hesitation before following an order.  

A little while later, Ulaz found his chance and seized it.  He was once again discussing strategy with Zerbek concerning the resistance force that had cropped up on the mining colony.  The Earthling was in his usual place on the floor, leaning against Zerbek’s leg and allowing him to pet him, but the set of his shoulders was stiff and his hands were curled into fists against his knees.  The vial on his collar was nearly empty, only a few drops left in it.  There was no way Zerbek could see his face from his angle, but Ulaz could see that the young man’s eyes were hard and clear; the drug was wearing thin, and he was planning to take advantage of it.  

Zerbek’s hand slipped down his neck to close around the front of his throat, tipping his chin up, and the Earthling quickly let his expression go slack, masking any hint of resistance.  The commander frowned, sharp eyes raking over his features.  He patted his pocket, then swore quietly.  “Curses, I’m out.  I’ll have to get more from the box the druids dropped off this morning.”  He raised his eyes to fix them on a metal case sitting on the shelf near the door.  

Ulaz rose before the commander could.  “Allow me, sir.”  

“Ah, thank you, Lieutenant.”  Zerbek turned his attention back to his pet, tilting the man’s face back and forth and eyeing him critically.  “Best bring two of those.  Its tolerance seems to be growing again.  I’ll have to ask the druids to up the concentration of the doses.”

Ulaz opened the case to find dozens of vials of the purple drug.  He picked up two and slipped another one into his pocket when he was sure the commander wasn’t looking, an easy enough task now that the Earthling was putting up a bit of a fight.  Closing up the case again, he walked back over to the table and passed the two vials in his hand to Zerbek, whose large hand was gripped tight around the Earthling’s throat, not even bothered by the man’s hands as they clawed and scratched at his forearm.  The Galra commander methodically changed the vials and pushed down the plunger on the new one to manually administer the drug all at once, the rush making the Earthling groan and slump against him, suddenly lethargic.  Zerbek made a satisfied  _ hmph  _ and nodded to himself as he changed the vial yet again, pushing the needle into his neck and allowing the drug to slowly drip into his system.  

While the commander was distracted with examining his now limp pet, Ulaz swiftly stuck the needle of the third vial into Zerbek’s jugular.  He ignored the surprised grunt from the other Galra and pushed the plunger down.  Zerbek, unused to the drug, dropped like a stone.  The Earthling blinked up at Ulaz in surprise, processing this turn of events slowly but processing it all the same.  

Ulaz grabbed him by the arm and helped him to his feet.  “Come on.  We’re getting out of here.”  

It was a miracle that they made it to the evacuation pod bay without being detected, especially given the difficulty the Earthling had with walking.  Ulaz had to half-carry, half-drag the young man to the pod closest to the air lock.  Once in the pod, Ulaz pushed him onto the bench in the back and climbed up to the pilot’s seat in the front.  He quickly started up the system and set the steering to manual; they couldn’t risk anyone hacking into the system and discovering the Blade’s coordinates.  

They managed to escape before any sort of alarm could be raised, and Ulaz breathed a sigh of relief when they finally left the radar range of the Empire’s ships.  After a quick look at their map, he started guiding the pod in the direction of the Blade’s headquarters.  

A sudden thump behind him caught his attention, and he looked over his shoulder to find the Earthling crumpled in a heap on the floor of the pod.  “Oh for goodness’ sake, what are you doing?”  He muttered, mostly to himself, as he didn’t expect the Earthling to be cognizant enough to understand him.  

The Earthling pushed himself up, swaying slightly.  “...Fell…” 

Ulaz blinked, momentarily taken aback.  It was the first time he had heard him speak, other than unintelligible grunts and occasional whimpers of pain.  Truthfully, he had thought that the drug had rendered him unable to form sentences.  

The man reached for the seat belt above the the bench seat, but his depth perception seemed to be off and he fell to the left, hand grasping at nothing.  Ulaz turned back to the controls just long enough to set the system on autopilot for a little while (they had a few million light years to go before they needed to turn) and climbed into the back of the pod.  The Earthling tensed reflexively when he saw him approach, but his posture relaxed a bit as he realized who it was.  Ulaz helped him onto the bench, handling him more gently now that they were no longer in danger of the Empire catching them.  

Brow knitted with concentration and fingers still slow and heavy, the Earthling grappled with the seatbelt for a few minutes, before Ulaz stepped in and clicked it into place for him.  After a moment’s thought, he reached up and worked the vial out of the collar, the Earthling wincing as the needle pulled free of his skin.  Ulaz tried to remove the collar itself, but there was no buckle or clasp to it; just a smooth, seamless band around his neck.  He would have to examine it further when he was able to, in order to see if there was a way to get it off.  For now, it was enough that the drug was out.           __

“Thank you…” the Earthling said.  His words were slow as they waded through the thickness of the drug in his veins, yet they had a certain clarity to them that let Ulaz know he was at least somewhat aware of his surroundings.  “For that… and… everything…” he shivered, no doubt remembering Zerbek.  Ulaz reached for the emergency first aid pack and took out a thin, military-regulation blanket.  It wasn’t much, but it would do.  

He tucked the blanket around the Earthling’s shoulders.  “Get some rest.  Sleep off the remainder of that drug.  We will be there soon.”  He didn’t bother to explain where they were headed.  It would be clear soon enough.  The Earthling didn’t seem bothered by the vagueness of his statement, though.  He nodded gratefully and let his eyes fall closed, slumping back against the seat as sleep overtook him.  

~~~~~~~

The Blade of Marmora’s headquarters, by necessity, was located quite far away from Zarkon’s command ship, so the journey to it was very long.  Ulaz steered the pod around planets and through asteroid fields, glancing back every few vargas to check on the Earthling, who slept soundly for nearly the entirety of the journey.  They had just made it past the Xanthorium crystal fields near one of the further outposts when Ulaz heard a rustle of movement come from the back as the Earthling stirred.  He sat up and looked around for a few minutes in silence, taking in the situation before he spoke up.

“Who are you?”  His voice was much clearer, now that it had been nearly half a quintant since he had had a needle dripping drugs into his bloodstream.  

“I am a member of a resistance group working to take down Zarkon’s Empire.”  Ulaz explained.  “I was doing undercover work on that command ship.”

“...Okay.  But what’s your name?”  

Ulaz turned to look at him over his shoulder.  “My name?”  

“Yeah,” the Earthling said.  He was gripping the blanket around his shoulders like a cape.  “Your name.”  

“We do not give our names so freely.”  Ulaz told him.  

“I mean, you’re already taking me to your group, supposedly.  Even if I could, it’s not like I’m going to run off and tell Zarkon who you are.”  The Earthling pointed out.  He was quite bright, Ulaz realized; able to deduce his intentions mere moments after waking up from a drug-induced haze.  

“Secrecy is our way of life.”  Ulaz said, turning back to the front to steer the pod around some asteroids.  “You’ll find that out soon enough.”  

“If you don’t tell me your name, I’m just going to have to make one up.”  The Earthling said.  “I can’t just keep calling you ‘good Galra guy’ in my head.”

“I fail to see why you cannot do just that.”  Ulaz said.

“I’m gonna call you Khoshekh.”  The Earthling said decisively.  Ulaz was puzzled, but he chose not to push the matter.  Perhaps the Earthling was still a little out of his head, after all.  “So why did you choose to bust me out of there?”  The man asked.

It took a moment for Ulaz to puzzle out his somewhat-strange vernacular.  “It seems you have some information that the druids took an interest in.  My group would like to know the specifics of that information.”

“Oh.”  He sounded disappointed, almost hurt.

“Is there a problem?”  Ulaz asked, glancing back at him.  The Earthling had turned his head to the side and averted his eyes, his expression stony.  

“No.”  The single word came out hard and clipped.  

Ulaz couldn’t think of what could be bothering him, so he let the matter drop.  In any case, they were approaching the double black holes and blue star in which the base was concealed.  He expertly steered the pod into through the narrow passage between the celestial objects and landed in the airlock of the base.  Immediately, the pod was surrounded by masked figures, and the Earthling looked startled as he saw them seem to materialize out of thin air through the pod windows.  Ulaz opened the door of the pod and stuck his head out, and the masked figures relaxed upon seeing him.  The one in front -- who he didn’t need to see the face of to know it was Kolivan -- stepped forward.  “This is an unexpected surprise.  You were not due to return yet.”  Kolivan said, his voice altered by his mask.  

“Slight change of plans.”  Ulaz apologized, then gestured for the Earthling to follow him out of the pod.  The young man unbuckled the seatbelt and stood up, still looking apprehensive.  Ulaz offered him a hand to help him down from the pod, not sure how stable his legs were yet.  

Kolivan watched them impassively.  “This is the Earthling informant?”

At his words, the Earthling tensed, although Ulaz couldn’t imagine why. “Indeed.”  He replied.  

Kolivan nodded.  “Follow me.”  He turned on his heel and headed for the door, surely heading to one of the interior rooms.

Ulaz started to follow his leader, but noticed the Earthling hadn’t moved.  He turned back to him and found the man standing stiffly, eyes flicking around for signs of danger and hands curled into fists at his sides.  Ulaz frowned.  “Come along.”  

“What are you going to do to me?”  The Earthling asked, his voice low.  Ulaz blinked.

“Do to you?”  He was confused.  “We just want you tell us what you told the druids.”

“I didn’t want to tell them.”  The Earthling blurted out, shaking his head.  “I never wanted to tell them.  They made me do it.”  

Ulaz did not see why that mattered.  The druids had gotten this information from him all the same.  Whether or not he had been willing did not change the fact that they had it.  “Regardless, we need to know what it was so that we can effectively cut off their plans.”

“Is there a problem back here?”  Kolivan’s voice barked out from near the door.  The Earthling jumped at the sound.  

“No, sir.”  Ulaz replied.  “The Earthling just seems a little reluctant to enter the facility, that is all.”

The mask hid his frown, but Ulaz knew it was there all the same.  “I hope he doesn’t display the same reluctance to tell us what he told the druids.”  He said coldly.

“And what if I do?  What will you do to me, then?”  The Earthling snapped, voice hard.  “Why should I even tell you?”

“Because we are fighting Zarkon, that’s why.”  Kolivan retorted.  

“So what if I don’t tell you what you want to hear?  Will you just torture it out of me?”  The Earthling asked, hands curling into fists.  

“If you simply answer our questions, this won’t need to be difficult.”  Kolivan told him.  

The Earthling’s eyes briefly flicked back to the Galra evacuation pod a moment before he lunged for the door.  It was a rookie mistake, giving away his intention like that.  Ulaz could see why he had not done particularly well in the gladiator ring.  He didn’t stand a chance against the battle-trained members of the Blade of Marmora, who anticipated his movements and immediately seized him.  He fought desperately, snarling and kicking, but he was weak from his imprisonment and didn’t last long against several seasoned warriors, who quickly pinned his arms behind him and forced him to his knees.  When his struggling did not cease, a strong, gloved hand pushed the side of his face against the floor, pinning him down.  Ulaz could only stare at him, lost for words at this behavior.  

He sank to one knee in front of the Earthling, hiding his puzzlement behind his usual carefully-blank expression.  “Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?”  He asked.

The Earthling glared up at him, fire burning in his eyes.  “You’re just like them.  I can’t believe I thought you saved me.  You just stole me for your own selfish gain.”

“This is  _ war _ , Earthling.”  Ulaz told him.  

“Stop  _ calling me that _ !”  He shouted, the volume of his voice taking Ulaz by surprise.  “They stripped me of my humanity, treated me like an  _ animal _ for… for I don’t even know how long,  months, years?!  All they ever wanted from me was information!  They  _ tortured  _ me to get it!  And now you’re going to do the same?!”  He laughed, the sound cold and bubbling with hysteria.  “I can’t believe I trusted you.  You’re no different than them!”  

His words ground Ulaz to a halt.  Of course.  How could he have been so foolish?  Secrecy was the way of the Blade, but he had been with them for so long and had been covering his tracks so habitually during a lifetime of undercover work that he had forgotten that not everyone was used to such a lifestyle.  In hiding his intentions, he had caused the Earthling fear, as he automatically assumed that the Blade would treat him as the Empire had.  

“Release him.”  Ulaz told his brothers, standing up.  They hesitated only a moment before doing so.  The Earthling sat up, rubbing his wrists and looking confused, wary at this sudden change.  Ulaz held a hand out, and this time he understood why the Earthling flinched at the movement.  “My name is Ulaz.  We have no intention of harming you here.  We just want to ask you some questions.  You’ll be taken to a more secure room for questioning, but you will be allowed to walk around the facility freely once we’ve finished talking.  You’ll be given clothes, food, and a bed.  You will be safe here.”   

The Earthling’s eyes widened, and Ulaz remembered something else.  “What is your name?”  He didn’t understand the fuss behind names, but it seemed that some creatures placed a lot of value on the exchanging of them.

The Earthling hesitated, then slowly reached out and accepted Ulaz’s hand up.  “My name is Matt,” he said, getting to his feet.  “Matthew Holt.”

Ulaz nodded.  “Welcome to the Blade of Marmora, Matthew Holt.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the people who read and to those who commented! I went back and forth a lot over whether I should post this story or not, so I'm thrilled that people actually read it and are interested in it (^.^)

Even with Ulaz’s promise that he would not be harmed, Matt was still jumpy and uncertain as he followed Ulaz and Kolivan deeper into the headquarters.  Once they were out of the unsecured pod bay -- well, as ‘unsecured’ as something hidden between two black holes could be, but it was still the least secured place in the facility as it was where ships docked. -- Kolivan dissolved his mask, which seemed to help calm Matt down a bit.  Ulaz deduced from his behavior that, as with the issue of names, he was less afraid of things once they were shown to be an individual rather than a faceless entity.     

They went to the interrogation room, which was a simple, stark room consisting of a plain table and three chairs, two on one side and one on the other.  There was nothing else obvious about the room, but Ulaz knew it was lined with dozens of security cameras and surveillance recording devices.  Two Blades waited outside the door, and the three of them took their seats at the table, Matt on one side with Ulaz and Kolivan across from him.  

Ulaz glanced at Kolivan, silently asking permission to lead this interrogation.  When he was given a small nod of approval, he began.  “Let’s start at the beginning.  How did the Galra capture you?”

“My father and I, and my friend, were on a scientific expedition to the moon Kerberos.”  Matt replied.  “We were conducting extraction of ice core samples when a Galra ship abducted us.  They took us completely by surprise, but it… it was almost like they knew we were there.”

“How would they have known you were there?”  Kolivan asked.  “Did you notify the Empire of your expedition before you left Earth?”

Matt shook his head.  “No, that’s the thing; most people on Earth don’t even believe in aliens. No one would have had contact with any other life forms outside of Earth.  Study of extraterrestrial life isn’t even seen as being worthy of real scientific research, and people say the scientists who do believe in those theories are just crazy.”  He hesitated, then went on.  “My dad and I both… we always thought there might be something to those theories.  Really, the idea that Earth is the  _ only  _ planet capable of life… it just seems so anthropocentric to completely dismiss the possibility that life forms can exist outside of our one planet.  So we were both excited to be assigned to the Kerberos mission, because it was not only a chance to get to learn about the surface make-up of a moon that humans know little about, but also because we thought we might discover some evidence for extraterrestrial life.  After all, where there’s ice, there was once water, and where there’s water, there’s a good chance for life.  And, well, clearly, we found life.”  He grimaced.  “Or, more accurately, it found us.”

“And what happened once you were captured?”  Ulaz asked.

“They knocked us out, and I think Shiro -- our pilot -- woke up first.  He told them we meant no harm and asked them who they were, I think… I was still kind of out of it at the time.”  Matt wrapped his arms around himself, as if he felt cold.  “They separated my dad from Shiro and I, and threw the two of us in prison.  I still have no idea where they took my father.  The Galra made us fight against other alien prisoners in the gladiator ring.  I’ve never been much of a fighter, but I somehow managed to survive a few battles.  There was no way I could have survived one fight, though, against this huge beast, but Shiro took my place, saving my life, and… he even managed to  _ win _ against Myzax.  After that, though, the two of us were separated, since he moved up in the gladiator ranks.  I think he might have been taken to a different ship.  I haven’t seen him since.  He… he could have been killed, for all I know.”  Matt said, his voice quiet at the end.  

“When did the druids begin to take an interest in you?”  Kolivan asked.  

“I… haven’t really got a clear sense of time, but it felt like maybe a few months later.”  Matt said.  “And I don’t know what started it, either.  One of them just came to my prison cell one day and took me back to their lab.  Of course they didn’t bother answering any of my questions.  They put me in this… tube thing.  I don’t know what it was, exactly, but whatever it was, as soon as they sealed it, I couldn’t move anymore and it was really cold.  It sort of put me to sleep, somewhat, but also… not.”  He shivered.  Ulaz wondered if what he had experienced was a cryopod.  He could see how the sensation would be unnerving, for someone unused to it.  “It was so strange.  They were somehow able to rifle through my memories, and I couldn’t do anything at all to stop them.  It felt almost like they were reaching their hands into my mind and flicking through the memories as if they were tangible things.  They did this a lot, the memory thing.  Even after they gave me to Zerbek, sometimes they still took me back and looked through my memories again.”

“Were there any in particular that they focused on?”  Ulaz asked.

“A few.”  Matt nodded.  “Usually at the beginning of a session, they would make me relive my worst moments, my most painful memories and greatest fears, but I think that was just to wear down my defenses so they could get to what they wanted.  Aside from those, they focused a lot on the pre-Kerberos mission preparations; meetings with Garrison officials and stuff like that.”

“Garrison?”  Ulaz questioned.

“The Galaxy Garrison.”  Matt explained.  “That’s the astro-military institution we worked for on Earth, the people who sent us on the mission.”  He frowned.  “It’s weird… the druids mostly focused on my memories of the Kerberos mission data… graphs and surveys and things, I can’t imagine what interested them about it.  It would take ages to explain it all, but if you give me paper and a pen and some time, I can draw them up for you.”  

“Whatever materials you require will be provided.”  Kolvian said.  “Any information they focused on, please do your best to replicate it.”

Matt nodded.  “The other things they kept coming back to were… a few memories of some conversations I overheard between my dad and Garrison officials.  Things that I don’t think I was even supposed to overhear.  About some kind of weapon, I think.  I know my dad didn’t agree with them about what to do with it; he wanted to study it, they seemed like they wanted to use it, which he was opposed to.  And there was something about looking for a lion.  The Garrison kept saying they thought it might be on Earth, but my dad didn’t seem to think so.  There was something about ice, too… I think my dad thought this lion would be on Kerberos, but that doesn’t make any sense; extraterrestrial life theories aside, a lion is clearly an Earthen life-form, so it needs certain amounts of oxygen-rich atmosphere and sunlight and water to survive… a lion wouldn’t be able to survive on an ice-covered moon nearly six billion kilometers away from the sun.  Unless the lion wasn’t organic…”  He trailed off, frowning at the tabletop in thought.  Ulaz and Kolvian shared a knowing look.

“Was there anything else the druids seemed interested in?”  Kolvian asked.  

“There was one other thing,” Matt said.  “But I don’t… I don’t even understand it.  It was a memory from before the mission.  My dad was working on this long-distance radio frequency scanner, just a little side project thing for fun.  He left his notes out when he went to go meet with Commander Iverson, and I was in the lab that day and found them when I was looking for the spare titanium rods to fix the ice core extractor machine that we were testing.  It was… bizarre.  The notes were just pages and pages of time-stamped entries of logs from the scanner, but the only word written over and over again was ‘Voltron’.  I have no idea what that means, but the druids focused on that one a lot.  They actually… they got really mad when there wasn’t more to the memory.  They kept beating me and ordering me to tell them about Voltron but, but I don’t know anything about it.” 

At the name, Ulaz and Kolivan shared a tense look.  Matt’s eyes flicked between them.

“What?  What is this Voltron thing?”  Matt asked.

“You’re positive that’s what it was?”  Ulaz asked.  

“Yeah.  The druids kept talking about that too, about ‘finding Voltron’, whatever that means.”  Matt frowned.  “What is it?”

Kolivan stood up.  “I’ll need to send word to Thace.”  He left without another word.  

Matt watched him leave, then his gaze fixed on Ulaz.  “What is Voltron?”

Ulaz hesitated, wondering how wise it would be to tell him.  Matt had told them so much, though, that it only seemed fair.  Their organization was built on secrecy, yes, but also trust and repaying debts.  “Voltron is a powerful weapon.  The most powerful weapon in the universe.  If Zarkon were to get his hands on it, he would be unstoppable.”  

“And… it’s on Earth…?”  

“Your Galaxy Garrison seems to think so.”  Ulaz said.  “And now, so do the druids.”  

Matt paled.  “They’ll… they’ll destroy Earth.”  

Ulaz looked at him somberly.  “We’ll try to locate it before that happens.”  He himself did not have a home planet, as it had been many, many thousands of years since the Galra had been confined to a single planet.  He couldn’t fully understand the fear Matt must surely have for his planet, small as that planet may be.  

Matt let out a heavy sigh, then leaned forward and buried his face in his arms that were folded on top of the table.  “Why did I ever apply to the Garrison…”  His words were muffled by his arms.  Ulaz thought it was a peculiar way to speak.

“If you had not, it is likely someone else would have been sent in your place.”  Ulaz reasoned.  From the sound of it, this Kerberos mission would have taken place whether Matt was a part of it or not.  He looked down at Matt, tilting his head in puzzlement as to why this Earthling was baring the back of his neck so easily.  “Is there anything else that the druids wanted from you?”

Matt was quiet for a few moments as he thought about it.  “No.  I’ve told you everything they did.”  

“Then, we are finished here.”  Ulaz stood up.  “Let’s go.”  

Matt turned his face to look at him, but didn’t pick his head up from where it was resting on his arms.  “You were serious about that?  Letting me go?”

“Well, I’m afraid you will have to stay within headquarters, for your own safety.”  Ulaz admitted.  “But you’re free to move around as you please, barring any sort of emergency lockdown.”

Matt sat up slowly.  “So… I’m not your prisoner?”  

“Of course not.”  Ulaz wasn’t sure where he had gotten that idea from.  If the Blade of Marmora ever took someone prisoner, they would certainly know it.  He supposed, though, that Matt had good reason to be suspicious of anyone, after being a prisoner of the Empire for so long.  Ulaz cleared his throat.  “We haven’t any reason to stay in this room.”  He said pointedly.

Matt nodded and stood up.  The two of them left the interrogation room, and Matt followed Ulaz through the halls of the Blade’s headquarters, looking around in wonder.  The walls of the facility were stark and undecorated, with only glowing purple lights set into the gray walls.  Occasionally, they passed other members, usually masked, who nodded in greeting to Ulaz before continuing on their way.  Small-talk was not the way of the Blade.

~~~~~~~

“So, where are we going?”  Matt asked.  He had to jog a little to keep up with Ulaz’s long strides.  

“We still have some time before the evening meal, so I intend to shower and change back into my Blade uniform.”  Ulaz explained, indicating the Galra Empire military attire he was still wearing.  “I imagine you could do with a shower as well, and we’ll see about getting you a change of clothes.”

“That would be awesome.”  Matt smiled.  Ulaz raised an eyebrow.

“Awesome?”

“Yeah,” Matt said.  “It means ‘really great’.”

“I am aware of the meaning.”  Ulaz said.  “I did not think a shower and change of clothing would be considered particularly inspiring of awe.”

“When you’ve been forced to wear the same clothes for a year, it is.”  Matt said, thinking about all the months of grime and dried blood that was built up on his skin.  “But I guess you’re right; we tend to use that word pretty liberally.”  

“Earth certainly seems to be a curious planet.”  Ulaz commented, pressing his palm to the sensor of a door.  

“I suppose it probably is, from an outside perspective.”  Matt said.  “Heck, it’s even pretty weird from an inside perspective, too.  Woah…” he stopped just inside the door and looked around the room, eyes wide.  

The spacious room was divided into several sections, and looked like a locker room belonging to a very simple but upscale health club.  The first room was large and lined with numbered lockers where members could store their uniforms while they showered, and a bench running down the middle.  Through a separate door off to the left were the toilets, and the door to the right led to rows of showers, each circular-shaped cubicle concealed by a curtain for privacy.  Between the two doors were a row of sinks, the mirrors above them lined with purple glowing lights.  It was just as Spartan and gray as the rest of the facility, although it was still far nicer than any room Matt had been in since leaving Earth.    

“Have you never seen a locker room before?”  Ulaz asked, grabbing a couple of towels from the basket near the shower room.  

“This is  _ considerably  _ nicer than my high school’s locker room was.”  Matt said, accepting the proffered towel.  State-mandated gym class had been the bane of Matt’s high school existence.  He wasn’t a fan of being forced to run laps around the school or having to participate in stupid games of flag football and dodgeball and every other projectile-flying-at-your-head sports-ball under the hot sun, always with the underlying risk of catching athlete’s foot from the mold that grew in the corners of the foul-smelling locker room.  But this place looked clean, spacious, and best of all, had working showers (something even his high school had lacked, for some reason).  He couldn’t wait to clean all the months of grime from the Galra prison off of his body.  

He stepped into the circular stall next to the one Ulaz took and drew the curtain closed, then eagerly stripped off the purple prisoner’s jumpsuit.  Glad to finally be rid of the thing, he balled it up and set it in a basket hanging on the wall, then reached for the handle to turn the shower on.  He paused, hand hovering uncertainly over the knobs.  There were two of them, one painted purple and one painted red.  Surely, one had to be hot water and one cold, but which was which?  Trial and error, he supposed; he was a scientist, after all.  Taking a chance, Matt twisted the red knob.  He let out a surprised yelp and jumped back as freezing cold water burst out of the showerhead, raining down on him with the consistency of hail.  Pressing himself against the wall, he stood out of the spray and reached around the frigid water to twist the red knob again, shutting it off.

“Are you alright?”  Ulaz asked from the next stall over.  

“I’m fine.”  Matt said, teeth chattering.  “It’s just, on Earth, we use red to indicate hot water rather than cold.”  

“Ah.”  Ulaz said.  “Yes, we use red for cold and purple for hot.  I suggest a mixture of the two.”  

Matt tried that, twisting both knobs at once.  Lukewarm water sprayed out of the showerhead this time, the temperature much more comfortable.  He fiddled with the dials a bit, turning the hot water up as much as he could bear, then stepped into the spray.  It was, quite possibly, the best feeling he had experienced since he had had been captured.  He lifted his hands and combed his fingers through his tangled hair with a sigh, letting his eyes fall closed and enjoying the feeling of the hot water running through his hair and down his body.  The grime was so caked onto his skin that he had to scrub at it just to clean it off, and the water pooling around his feet turned murky with dirt and flecks of dried blood.  He was covered in scars; some of them thin white lines, others thick and knotted, raising above his flesh like ropes.  Some, he didn’t even remember getting, but others he could never forget.  

He ran his thumb over the shallow one on his left calf, the one Shiro had given him when he took his place against Myzax, saving Matt’s life.  Matt had no way of knowing if doing so had cost Shiro his own life.  It certainly seemed possible; after beating Myzax, Shiro was slated to fight even more terrible monsters.  How far could luck and skill take him before his opponents became too great for even him?  One thing that had become abundantly clear in the beginning of their time as gladiators was that humans were definitely at a disadvantage in the ring.  They had no natural armor, their skin broke fairly easily, and they were far smaller than many of the other alien species.  How long had Shiro managed to survive, against beasts even more terrifying than Myzax?  

Matt shook his head to clear it.  Dwelling on those thoughts would do nothing for him except make him sad.  There was nothing he could do for Shiro or his father now.  But then again, perhaps, one day, he would find them, now that he was with the resistance.  The Blade of Marmora… surely, they had to have intel about the Galra Empire.  Maybe they would allow him access to their resources, and he could find out where his father had been taken and if Shiro was still alive.  They might not let him, or they might not know anything, or he might find out they were both gone… still, though, it was more hope than he had had in nearly a year, so he would hold onto it for as long as he could.  

Once he had gotten most of the dirt rubbed off of his skin, he looked around the shower for any sign of shampoo or soap.  On a shelf fixed to the wall, there was a dish full of what looked like clear marbles.  He picked one up, eyeing it curiously.  The surface had some give to it, almost like a larger version of those scented deodorizer balls that his mother sometimes placed in decorative vases in the bathroom and near the shoe rack back home.  

“Hey, Ulaz?”  Matt spoke up, hoping it wasn’t too rude to ask a question while in the shower.  “Are these… orb things, the soap?”  

“Yes.”  Ulaz replied.  

Matt rolled the orb between his fingers.  “How does it… work?”  

“Just break it over your head or skin, and it will burst.”  Ulaz said.  

“Is it shampoo or body soap?”  Matt asked.

“Is… there a difference?”  Ulaz sounded confused. 

“On Earth, typically.”  Matt said.  “Shampoo for your hair, body soap for your skin.”

“Well, due to the fact that some Galra have more fur covering their bodies than others, we don’t distinguish different types of soap.  It will work for both.”

Fair enough.  “Efficient.”  Why use two when one could get the job done?  Matt held the orb over his hair and brought it down, as if he was cracking an egg over his own head.  The orb burst and soap dripped through his hair, reminding him of the popping boba balls at the frozen yogurt place he and Katie liked to go to back home.  Matt rubbed his hands through his hair, spreading the lather around and massaging it deep into his scalp.  “So if some Galra have more hair than others, they must have a wide range of genetic traits that make up appearance.”  He wondered aloud.  “Although, maybe it’s only limited to some physical traits, since I’ve never seen a Galra with eyes that were anything other than yellow.  But come to think of it, your skin is lighter than a lot of other Galra I’ve seen, and that other guy even had reddish markings on his face.  Is that typical, for Galra?”  

“I don’t believe I have ever thought about it.”  Ulaz admitted.  

“Hm,” Matt tipped his head back and washed the suds out of his hair.  “Well, then again, it’s not exactly surprising, given the vastness of the Galra Empire.  After all, humans are only on one planet, yet we have countless variations in physical traits, some of which are determined by environmental factors.  So if the Galra live on dozens -- if not hundreds -- of planets, of course there would be some variation.”  He paused and reached for another soap orb, breaking it over his shoulder.  It took him a moment, but he noticed that Ulaz had gone quiet.  “Oh, crap, I’m sorry if that sounded rude or insensitive… I really didn’t mean it.  My specialty is molecular paleontology, but anthropology and genetic variation are something I’ve also found interesting too… although I guess Galra wouldn’t exactly fall under ‘anthro-’ -pology… and I’m rambling again.  Sorry.”   Both he and his sister had a tendency towards ‘word vomit’ when they got nervous.  His mother joked that it was easy to tell when one of her kids was hiding something or lying.  

“No, no, that’s fine.”  Ulaz said.  “I just don’t have much to contribute to the conversation.  I’ve never spent much time studying the sciences.”  

“My friend Shiro is kind of like that,” Matt smiled as he reached for another soap ball.  “He never really liked our science or math classes, when we were growing up.  He’s plenty smart, he just doesn’t enjoy studying for fun like I do.  Pretty sure the only reason he passed AP physics was because I tutored him, and he probably still can’t do a Punnett square to save his life… but it evened out, because I probably would have failed gym class if he didn’t drag me to it every time I tried to skip.”  He laughed, remembering the incredulous look his friend gave him when he asked him  _ how the heck are you actually failing gym class, Matt?  You literally just have to show up and throw a ball around…  oh, yeah right, you just ‘forgot’ your uniform, right.  Here, borrow my extra set, you’re not getting out of this that easily... _

The squeak of the taps turning off in the next stall over broke Matt out of his thoughts.  

“I am going to get dressed, and I’ll see about finding some clothes for you.”  Ulaz said.  “Take your time.”  

“Alright,” Matt replied.  He reached for another soap orb as Ulaz’s footsteps faded away, and he couldn’t resist rolling the orb between his fingers and examining it before pressing it between his palms to break the thin skin encasing the liquid soap.  He wondered what the exterior layer was made of.  Speaking of that, did the Blade of Marmora have to make their own soap and other necessities, since it was a secret organization?  He couldn’t imagine a mail order delivery spaceship being willing to pilot between two black holes just to drop off supplies.  If they made everything here, would they have a manufacturing lab of some sort?  Matt was itching to get his hands on some alien technology; during his time on the command ship, he had seen machines and devices that looked absolutely fascinating, but as a prisoner he had never been allowed to touch them.  The most interaction he had had with them was with the druids, and those weren’t exactly the fondest of memories.

After he finished washing himself, he took a few minutes to just stand in the warm spray of the shower with his eyes closed, indulging himself after going so long without being allowed to do anything like this.  When his fingers were beginning to prune from the water, he finally relented and twisted the knobs to turn off the shower.  Reaching for the towel, he rubbed it first over his hair, then over the rest of his body.  He had absolutely no desire to put the prison jumpsuit on again, so he settled for just wrapping the towel around his waist and hoped that was acceptable to do, by Galra standards.  He combed his fingers through his hair as he walked back out to the room with the lockers, where he found Ulaz dressed in a strange black and purple suit and waiting on a bench, a pile of clothes folded next to him.  

Ulaz blinked when he saw Matt, looking surprised.  “Your skin has changed color.”  He commented.  

Matt looked down and saw that, indeed, most of his skin was a light pink color from the heat of the water.  “Oh, yeah, it’s been ages since I’ve been able to take a hot shower, so I kind of took advantage.”  He suddenly remembered something, a memory of his sister beating her fist on the bathroom door and yelling to leave some hot water for her.  “Um, sorry if I used up all the hot water or something…”

“The water on base is filtered and recycled, and the energy to heat it comes from the blue star, which gives off more than enough energy.”  Ulaz said.  “Do not worry about it.  In any case, I believe many members prefer cool water.”  He stood up and picked up the stack of folded clothes.  “I’m afraid the only clothes we have that looked to be small enough were some spare sleeping clothes.  They’ll have to do, for now.”  

Matt unfolded the clothes and looked at the garments, which looked, for the most part, like a plain t-shirt and thin, loose sweatpants, both of them a light grayish-purple.  It seemed even Galra defectors favored the same color scheme as the Empire.  

Ulaz turned away to straighten a few things in his locker, keeping his back to Matt, who changed into the new clothes quickly.  The fabric felt soft, like cotton, and was a welcome sensation on his skin after the coarse, scratchy fabric of the prison jumpsuit.  He had to roll the waistband of the pants so that he didn’t trip over the extra fabric at the bottom of the long legs, and the t-shirt was so big that it reminded him of all the times in high school when Shiro had pushed his spare set of gym clothes at him whenever Matt conveniently ‘forgot’ his own.  But the clothes were clean, and fit fairly reasonably, considering the average size of the Galra compared to humans, so it was all he could ask for.  

After looking around and spotting a large basket filled with other used towels, Matt tossed his in as well, then he followed Ulaz to the canteen.

~~~~~~~

The rest of the Blade members were already eating dinner by the time Ulaz and Matt arrived at the canteen.  The crowd hushed briefly when they saw Matt, but everyone quickly turned back to their conversations, not wanting to alarm him.  Their eyes gave them away, though, as they kept glancing at the Earthling with thinly-veiled curiosity.  

Ulaz handed Matt a plate and helped himself to a serving of food goo from the dispenser hose.  He turned away to pour two glasses of water, and when he looked back, Matt was peering down the end of the tube, heedless of the fact that a number of the Blades had nudged those next to them and were watching him with undisguised interest.  

“Matt?”  Ulaz questioned.  His voice seemed to have startled him a bit, as he jumped slightly.  

“Sorry, I just… how does this…?”  His eyes flicked between Ulaz’s full plate and the machine, and the Galra man could practically see the gears turning in his hand.  He was about to tell him how it worked, but Matt’s eyes suddenly lit up.  “Wait, I think I’ve got it.”  He pulled down the lever on the side of the machine just a little bit, experimentally, and a dollop of food goo plopped onto his plate.  “Huh, just like an ice cream machine.”  He said.  He pulled down the lever again for longer this time, tilting the plate in circles until he had a neatly spiraling pile of food goo.  Ulaz stared at it, surprised.  This Earthling really was quite ingenuitive, if he could not only figure out an unfamiliar machine in mere seconds, but could also do it in what was arguably a neater way than could the ones who used it daily.  

The other members seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and many were whispering among themselves while casting furtive glances at the human.  Ulaz shot them a warning look; it would not do if the Blades frightened their newest guest.  

From the moment they sat down at one of the tables, Matt found himself being somewhat of a topic of interest.  A few of the younger, more curious Blade members at their table asked him about customs on Earth, and in particular, why he had swirled his food goo the way he had.  Matt had just chuckled at the question and said that he used to work in an ice cream shop during the summers when he was younger, instantly sparking more questions about what “ice cream” and “summers” were.  Matt seemed eager to explain the terms and compare his accounts of life on Earth to their accounts of growing up on various planets.  One of the Blade members sitting at their table called over Salisimn, the Blade in charge of the kitchen, to join their conversation, saying “you’ve got to hear about this Earthling food called ‘ice cream’; apparently they make the particles vibrate at a lower than average frequency  _ intentionally _ !”  

Ulaz, for his part, was content to simply listen to Matt as he chatted enthusiastically with the others about things like Earth’s atmospheric composition and axis tilt and the ‘seasons’ it produced, as well as Earth foods, which apparently came in an impossibly-wide variety of colors, tastes, and nutritional values.  To Ulaz, the change Matt had undergone between this moment and not even a full day earlier was astronomical; he sometimes had a hard time reckoning the fearful creature he had taken from Zerbek with the bright-eyed, eager, laughing person sitting beside him.  He had no doubt that Matt’s mind was strong beyond belief, and not just because the druids had called him a genius; the unbroken state of his mind was the real testament to his mental strength, as few could withstand intense physical and psychic torture at the hands of Zarkon’s druids.

~~~~~~~

After the evening meal had finished, everyone worked together to wash the plates and clean up the kitchen and canteen.  Often, many new recruits were surprised by this (arguably old-fashioned) way of doing things when they first joined, but with as isolated as the Blade of Marmora had to be, group cooperation was the only way to keep the facility running smoothly.  Matt, however, seemed more surprised at the structure of the dishwasher device and the form of the cleaning chemicals than he was the expectation he was to use them.  Perhaps group cooperation was a common practice on Earth, Ulaz reasoned.  From what he knew of the planet, it too was self-sufficient and isolated from other alien civilizations.  At any rate, Matt eagerly chatted with Salisimn and the others about things as ordinary as sanitization methods and chemicals while he helped them push the racks of dishes through the dishwasher and unload them on the other side.  If anyone found the Earthling’s tendency for small-talk and conversation unusual, most of them lost their apprehension about it by the end of the meal and cleaning.      

By the time the group was dismissed for the night, Matt had already been promised by Maliik that he would teach him how to read the Galran language sometime during their breaks, had been reminded by Antok to come and find him tomorrow to measure him for a uniform, and had offered to help Salisimn with the meal preparations the next day in exchange for the older man showing him how exactly the food goo was prepared.  Ulaz was a bit amazed; he didn’t think he had seen any new members settle in as quickly as Matt did.  Not only that, but he was already beginning to have an impact on those around him.  The way of the Blade was often synonymous with coldness and solitude -- they were all hardened victims of war, many of them having lost families and friends or even entire planets to the Empire -- and Matt’s enthusiasm had lit up their lives like a star burst.  Perhaps selfishly, Ulaz hoped that this star would remain close to them for a long time, rather than winking past like a comet.

There were a number of empty sleeping quarters, as many of their members were away on missions, but Ulaz considered the matter only briefly before showing Matt to the empty room beside his own.  It had last been used by Jil’kahn, a Blade equal in rank to Ulaz himself, but Jil’kahn was currently away on a ten decafeebe-long infiltration mission, so as per their custom, his belongings had been cleared away to his locker and the room was available for use by any other that required it.  Ulaz pointed out the location of the spare linen cupboard that held the extra blankets (Earthlings just seemed so bare and suspect to temperature changes, since they didn’t have as much hair or as thick of skin as Galra did) and told him the time that morning training began, then bade him goodnight.  

“Hey, Ulaz?”  Matt said, making him turn back to look at him.  Matt’s expression softened into a smile.  “Thank you, again, for getting me out of that place.”

“It was the course of action I deemed most beneficial for all parties.”  Ulaz said.  Well, for most parties.  Certainly for Matt and the Blade, and his own conscience.  Less so for Zerbek, but Ulaz didn’t give a damn about what he wanted.  

“I know,” Matt smiled.  “But you still have my eternal gratitude.”

“That seems a hyperbole.”  Ulaz said.  Gratitude, he understood, but even eternal seemed to be stretching it.  Nothing truly lasted for an eternity.

Matt chuckled.  “Maybe, but it’s true.”  He lifted his hand in a little wave.  “Goodnight, Ulaz.”  

Ulaz nodded.  “Sleep well, Matt.”                      

~~~~~~~

Metal and building materials were, like everything else in the Blade headquarters, a precious resource that they could not afford to squander.  As such, places like the training deck, laboratory, strategy-planning rooms, and the outer walls were fortified, but the walls between members’ sleeping quarters were built minimally.  The walls between rooms were exceptionally thin, and Ulaz’s hearing was exceptionally good.  A lifetime of undercover work and staying on his toes meant that he was a fairly light sleeper as well, so it was little surprise when he woke up in the middle of the night to a sound coming from the room next to his.  He thought, perhaps, that Matt had simply woken up to use the restroom and would soon return to bed, but he did not.  There was a quiet rustle, like the sound of someone getting out of bed, then the soft sound of light footsteps.  The quiet footsteps continued for several minutes, but they did not leave the room.  It sounded almost like he was pacing.  

Ulaz was confused.  Did Earthlings not sleep through the night?  Given their planet’s relation to their sun, it would make sense for them to be diurnal creatures.  At any rate, it had been a long time since Matt had been on Earth; surely he had acclimated to the standard Galra day-lengths.

He was about to roll over and go back to sleep when the pacing next door stopped abruptly and was followed by a loud  _ thump _ that was unmistakably the sound of a body falling to the floor.  Such a sound should only be heard in training or in battle, not during the resting period.  Ulaz sat up in bed and listened carefully, but heard only silence.  He climbed out of bed and exited his own sleeping quarters, lifting a hand to knock on door next to his.  “Matt?  Are you alright?”  He asked, concerned.  His concern only grew when he got no response.  Had Matt perhaps been attacked?  It was unlikely an intruder had gotten into the base undetected, and he didn’t want to believe that any of his brothers had dared to harm him.  

After knocking again and still getting no response, Ulaz pressed his palm to the sensor and opened the door.  Matt was lying in a crumpled heap in the middle of the floor, but there was no one else in the room nor any sign of a break-in.  Ulaz crouched down on the floor beside him and called his name, carefully touching his arm.  A jolt of static electricity stung at his fingertips and he frowned.  That was certainly unusual.  He called Matt’s name again, and this time, the Earthling man’s hand twitched and his expression twisted unpleasantly as he pried his eyes open.  

“What happened?  Are you alright?”  Ulaz asked as Matt pushed himself upright.  He did not see any immediately obvious injuries.  

“I…  _ ah _ !”  Matt’s words cut off with a cry as a crackle of purple lightning raced across his neck, knocking him out again.  Ulaz managed to catch his head before it was able to hit the floor, and knew if he was able to feel the residual electricity through his thicker skin at just that bit of contact, it must be even more painful to Matt.  Another jolt of electricity lit up the dark room, making Matt’s body jerk involuntarily, and Ulaz was able to see this time that it was somehow coming from the black collar still fixed around Matt’s throat.  

He jumped up and raced back to his own sleeping quarters to grab his knife from under his pillow, barely pausing at the entrance to Matt’s room long enough to slap the lightswitch on.  The collar was now releasing near-constant bursts of purple electricity, and Matt’s face was pale and his body jerked with every jolt.  Ulaz seized the collar and gritted his teeth against the pain, knowing it was much worse for Matt.  He slid the flat of the luxite blade between Matt’s neck and the still-sparking collar, then twisted his grip and pulled up, slicing the collar in half.  

Now free from his neck, the collar was still persistently crackling with purple lightning, but Ulaz could see the tiny generator tucked next to the gap where the needle-tipped vial of drugs had been.  He set the device on the floor and stabbed it with his knife, and the purple lightning sputtered as the generator whirred down.  With that taken care of, Ulaz turned his attention to Matt, who was groaning and pushing himself upright again.  

“Are you alright?”  Ulaz asked, reaching out to steady him.  Matt flinched as a bit of residual electricity shocked both of them upon contact.  

“I’m… okay now.”  His voice sounded hoarse, and he reached a hand up to carefully prod at the darkened, tender skin around his throat, hissing at the pain.  “I… the first shock woke me up, and when I was wondering what to do about it, they… they started coming more and more frequently… I couldn’t…” Matt trailed off, shivering.

“What happened?”  Kolivan’s voice came from behind them, and they turned to find him and Antok standing in the open doorway.  Antok looked almost amusing with his mask on over his sleeping clothes.  

“This,” Ulaz wrenched his blade out of the floor, the collar still speared on the tip of it.  “It started giving off electrical shocks, stunning him.  It might be a precautionary measure set to kick in if the drug has been out of it for a certain amount of time.”  

Kolivan frowned.  “Contain it, and bring it to the lab for examination.”  He said to Antok, who stepped forward and pried it off the end of the knife.  Kolivan turned to Ulaz and nodded in Matt’s direction.  “I’ll trust you to treat his wounds.”

“Of course.”  Ulaz nodded.  The other two Blade leaders, not ones for small-talk, left without another word.  Ulaz turned back to Matt.  “Come, let’s get you to the infirmary.”  He helped Matt to his feet and led him down the corridors to the medical bay.  

Matt was considerably shorter than Ulaz, so after getting his permission, he lifted him up to sit on the counter, where Ulaz could more easily see the damage to his neck.  A ring of skin around the base of his throat where the collar had been had already turned an angry red color with splotches of deep purple.  There was a spot at the back of his neck, just above the knobs of his spine, where there were dozens of heavily bruised track marks from being repeatedly pricked by a needle.  The sight of his injuries made pity and guilt twist in Ulaz’s gut.  

“I apologize,” he said somberly, taking out a medical kit.  “My negligence to remove the device caused you harm.”  Opening the kit, he took out a tube of gel used to treat burns.

“Neither of us knew it would do that.  It isn’t your fault.”  Matt said, tilting his chin up to allow Ulaz better access to the injuries.  He grimaced as Ulaz began, but the coolness of the gel soon soothed the pain.  

“I would think that an attempt on your life would cause you more concern.”  Ulaz commented as he worked.                  

“I’ve had worse.”  Matt paused, then chuckled.  “It’s only a flesh wound.  ‘Tis but a scratch.”  His voice came out strange, almost accented, and Ulaz wondered if his vocal chords had been damaged.   

“Perhaps we ought to check your neural processing systems as well.”  Ulaz frowned.  “Even a wound of the flesh can be severe.  It isn’t a laughing matter.”

“It was a joke.  My neural processing systems are fine.”  Matt said.  

Ulaz set the burn gel down and picked up a roll of bandages.  “I’m afraid I don’t understand the joke.”

“It’s probably the lack of context.”  Matt said.  “It’s a line from a movie back on Earth, a well-known comedy.  A movie that -- my neural processing systems are so fine -- I could recite right now, beginning to end.”

“The grammar of your statement does not exactly lend credibility to your argument.”  Ulaz commented.  

“I’m a scientist, not a grammatician.”  Matt chuckled.  “Man, I miss that movie.  It’s my dad’s favorite; he and I can quote the whole thing, start to finish.  My sister, too, although she denies it.”  He winced as Ulaz started dressing the wounds.  “I guess… I tend to use humor as a coping mechanism.  Drawing on those familiar memories helped me get through a lot of tough situations when I was a gladiator, between the fights when the guards hit us and taunted us, when we couldn’t do anything back without being punished.  There was one time, this guard was yelling at our cell block, saying we had to obey him and as far as we were concerned, he was our king -- like, damn, talk about a power complex -- and under my breath, very quietly, I muttered ‘ _ well I didn’t vote for you _ ’.”  At the last bit, he pitched his voice up again, making Ulaz wonder if that was standard for indicating a joke in Earthling language.  “The guard didn’t hear, but Shiro did, and he was just about ready to smack me upside the head if I kept going.  But it helped to lighten the situation, even if it was just a little bit.  It’s not like there was anything else we could do.”  

Ulaz carefully wrapped the bandages around the wound, making sure they were secure but not too tight.  “You have mentioned this ‘Shiro’ many times.”  

“We’ve been best friends for years.  Growing up, we were practically inseparable.”  Matt explained.  “He was the pilot on the Kerberos mission, so he was captured along with my dad and I.”  

“Ah, Champion?”  Ulaz said.  There were few Earthlings in the Empire, so he had to assume that Matt and Champion had been captured together.  

Matt grimaced and his eyes turned cold.  “Don’t call him that.  That’s the title  _ they  _ gave him, and he hated it.  Calling us only by prison numbers or titles instead of our names was just another way for them to dehumanize us.”  

Ulaz nodded, remembering Matt’s aversion to being called ‘Earthling’.  “I apologize.  I will refer to him as Shiro from now on.”  

Matt gave a tiny nod of satisfaction, as much as he could without moving his neck too much.  Ulaz checked over the bandages to make sure they were properly fastened.  Half the skin on his neck was swollen and red, but he had treated the worst of it as best as he could.  

“I’m afraid it may bruise heavily by morning,” he said, packing up the medical kit.  “And it will no doubt hurt for a while.  How long, I cannot say, as I am unfamiliar with Earthling cell regeneration rates.  It may leave scars, as well.”

“Probably only a week or two.”  Matt said.  “And I’m fine with scars.  A little hard not to be, at this point.”  He was smiling, but there was a certain sadness to the tilt of his lips and softness of his eyes.  “Actually, I’m kind of glad it woke me up.”

“How so?”  Ulaz asked, placing the medical kit back in the cabinet.  

Matt shrugged, keeping his gaze on his feet.  “It’s not a big deal or anything, I was just… having a nightmare.  I sometimes have trouble waking up from those.”  He chuckled, the sound hollow.  “It’s funny, I’d much rather deal with physical pain than something in my own mind.”  

“I don’t think it’s that funny.”  Ulaz said quietly.  “I think that’s a very reasonable response.”  Physical pain could be treated.  Apply some medicine and dress the wound correctly, and the body would heal itself, given enough time.  When the torment was inside you, though, it was harder to escape, harder to treat.  Painful memories could be pushed aside and shoved to the back of one’s mind in lieu of focusing on the present task at hand, but you were powerless to stop them from pouncing on the unconscious during sleep.  There were few, if any, Blades who did not suffer from nightmares.  Ulaz reached for a bottle of tablets designed to assist with dreamless sleep.  Frequent use would dull the effects, but many members used them on the nights when their fears and painful memories got to be too much.  “Would you like a sleeping tablet?  Many here take them to help with nightmares.”  

Matt looked at the bottle thoughtfully.  “I’m okay.  Thanks, though.  Not a big fan of drug-induced sleep at the moment.”  His smile turned bitter and a little forced, and Ulaz knew he was remembering how it felt to have that drug from the druids in his system, slowing his body and thoughts.  

“Of course.”  Ulaz nodded and set the bottle back on the shelf.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Matt pushed a hand through his hair.  “I don’t think so.”  He hesitated, and Ulaz could tell he had more he wanted to say, so he waited patiently for Matt to go on, but the man just shook his head after a few moments.  “We should probably go back to bed, I guess.”  He scooted forward and looked ready to jump down off the countertop.

“Let me,” Ulaz stopped him.  “It wouldn’t do for you to break a leg.”  

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.”  Matt admitting, allowing the Galra man to pick him up under the arms and set him on the floor safely.  “Thanks.”  

Matt was quiet on the way back to the sleeping quarters, seeming to be absorbed in his own thoughts.  Ulaz chose not to question him about it; it was not his place to pry.  Just as he was reaching for the sensor of his own door, however, Matt spoke up.  “Would you… I mean, if you’re okay with it, would you… stay with me?”  

Ulaz blinked, surprised.  “Stay with you?”

“Like, to sleep,” Matt said.  “If… if it’s okay.  I don’t…” he looked away, his voice quiet.  “I don’t want to be alone, right now.”  

Ulaz’s expression softened and he lowered his hand.  “Then I will stay with you.  I want you to feel safe, even in sleep.”

Matt’s ears and cheeks turned red, and Ulaz hoped he wasn’t beginning to get a fever.  He nodded sharply and pressed his hand to his own sensor to open the door, and Ulaz followed him into his sleeping quarters.  Matt climbed into bed first and slid up against the wall to make room for Ulaz.  Perhaps he had thought the bed large when he was alone in it, as it was made to accommodate an individual of Galra size, but with Ulaz there as well it was quite clear that it was only a single bed.  The two of them ended up on their sides facing each other to both fit, and there was little space between them.  Matt scooted down so only the top of his head was on the pillow, putting as little pressure on his injured neck as possible.  Neither of them said anything, but when Matt finally managed to drift off to sleep a few minutes later, it seemed peaceful.  Ulaz closed his eyes again and joined him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holds out another hatchet* join me in my dugout canoe.
> 
> Also, I noticed while re-watching "Shiro's Escape" that Ulaz calls Shiro by his name right from the get-go. WHERE'D HE HEAR THAT NAME, HMM?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my favorite part of that leaked photo of Matt a while back was the sudden barrage of “Matt can’t see shit” jokes/comics.
> 
> Disclaimer: Despite having worn glasses for about half of my life, I don’t really know how glasses actually work. I did some research and kinda bullshitted my way through the rest of it because the process itself isn’t actually an important part of the story. Let’s just call it futuristic space science.

When the wake-up alarm rang the next morning, Ulaz, for what was probably the first time in his life, was reluctant to get out of bed.  At some point during the night, Matt had moved closer to rest his forehead against Ulaz’s chest and Ulaz’s arm had ended up curling around his body, and he was quite comfortable and would have much preferred to stay here rather than get up.  

Matt sat up, blinking disorientedly and with his hair sticking up where it had been pressed to the pillow.  “Wha’s happ’nin’?”  

“It is time for morning training.”  Ulaz explained as the alarm stopped ringing.  He put a hand on Matt’s shoulder, gently prompting him to lay down again.  “Go back to sleep.  You’ll need your rest so you can heal faster.”

“Mm,” Matt made a sleepy noise and flopped down again.  “Yeah, I’mma just work on my cell regeneration here…” 

Ulaz chuckled fondly as he got up.  He briefly stopped by his own room to change into his uniform and grab his knife, then made his way to the training deck.  

Kolivan eyed him when he came in.  “You’re late.”

Only by about half a dobosh, but even that wouldn’t slip past the Blade leader.  “My apologies.”  Ulaz said.  

“And you’re alone.”  Kolivan commented pointedly.  

“I told Matt he could rest for longer.”  He said.  “He has been through a considerable amount of stress, especially after being electrocuted last night.”

Kolivan nodded, seeming to accept that.  “He will have to join us for training eventually.  A dull blade is not much use.”  

“Above all else, he is a living creature,” Ulaz said firmly.  He had a feeling Matt would not appreciate being likened to a weapon.  “And a refugee of the Empire at that.  He can rest for as long as he needs.”  

Kolivan arched an eyebrow at him, and Ulaz knew it was only his rank and their long history together that the leader refrained from punishing him for his boldness.  “I’ll expect him at training tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, sir.”  

Kolivan turned his attention back to watching the sparring match in front of him.  “Careful not to become too attached, Ulaz.  Attachments are only weaknesses that can be exploited.”  

Ulaz nodded curtly and left to go assist some of the other members with a training exercise, declining to reply.

~~~~~~~

As it turned out, they did not have to wait for the next morning to begin Matt’s training.  He found his way to the training deck just a couple of vargas later.  He was still wearing his sleeping clothes, and when he spotted him hovering near the wall just inside the door, Kolivan called Antok over and told him to measure him for a proper uniform.  

When they returned, Kolivan was tossing a practice knife in the air and catching it idly while he waited for them.  “We will save hand-to-hand combat for after your injuries from last night have healed.”  The Blade leader said, forgoing a greeting.  “For now, let’s see how good your aim is.”  He flipped the practice knife around and held it out to the Earthling, handle first.  

“My aim…?”  Matt looked confused.  

“Throw it.”  

“At…?”  Matt asked.

Kolivan arched an eyebrow, unamused.  “The target.”  He nodded in the direction of a red and white target against the far wall.  

Matt frowned and squinted his eyes as he looked at it, leaning forward a bit.  “...Oh.  Uh, okay.”  He straightened up and tested the weight of the knife in his hand, but it was obvious to Kolivan that he had no idea what he was doing.  He wasn’t surprised, frankly; it didn’t sound like this Earthling had a warrior background, and the Empire seldom allowed their low-rank gladiators the use of weapons in their battles, preferring to make them fight like animals.  Matt’s lack of experience became even more obvious when he drew back his arm, threw the knife…

...and it fell short of the target by a good three feet, clattering to the floor.  

By then, nearly everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch and was staring at the scene, stunned.  Matt frowned and squinted, shielding his eyes as he leaned forward again.  “That didn’t hit it, did it?”  He asked.

“Clearly it did not.”  Kolivan said flatly, distaste evident in his tone.  

Matt sighed and shot him a frustrated glare.  “Okay, look, I can barely even  _ see  _ the target.”  

“It is not hidden.”  Kolivan said bluntly.  It was hung on the wall, with nothing in front of it.  

“It’s too far away.”  Matt said.

“Then perhaps you need to work on your strength.”

“It’s not my strength that’s the problem.”  Matt told him.  “It’s my  _ eyes _ .  My depth perception is all off.  I  _ can’t. see. the target _ .”

“Did the drug Zerbek forced you to take dull your vision?”  Ulaz asked, joining them.  

“No, it was a combination of genetics and too much time looking at a computer screen in my youth.”  Matt sighed.  “I need glasses, but mine broke during my first gladiator match, so I’ve been half-blind ever since.  My opponent punched me right in the face just a few seconds into the fight.  Smashed my glasses to pieces and gave me this,” he pointed to a jagged, twisting line of a scar along the left side of his face, beginning near his temple and curling around and down his cheekbone.  

“I do not understand,” Ulaz said.  “If you cannot see the target, how will a pane of glass in front of it help?  If anything, you will only shatter the glass.”

“Assuming he manages to get the knife close enough to do so.”  Kolivan quipped.  

Matt ignored the pointed comment about his strength and made two circles with his thumbs and index fingers, holding them up to his eyes.  “No, the glass goes here, in front of my eyes.  Two pieces, with a convex curve to them, which magnifies and sharpens the image.  Right now, everything a few feet away from me is blurry.”  He looked at Kolivan and Ulaz, who were standing in front of him.  “I can see you from here,” he took several steps back, “Now your features are blurry,” a few more steps back and he squinted at them, “And now I can’t tell the two of you apart.  You’re just two purplish blobs.”  He stepped closer again in time to see them share a surprised look, and he could hear the other Blade members around them whispering to each other.

“Do all Earthlings have this visual deficiency?”  Kolivan asked.

“Not everyone, and some people have it worse than others.”  Matt said, taking the use of the word ‘deficiency’ with a grain of salt.  Perhaps it was just a difference between aliens and humans.  “Do Galra not need glasses, at all?  Everyone can see perfectly fine?  Things aren’t blurry when they get too far away or too close?”  He asked, looking around at all of them.  

There was silence, then one Blade member holding a bow tentatively raised one hand, looking nervous.  “Some things… do become unclear when they are close.  Things that are far away are fine, though.”  He admitted.

“Is that why you never read the books I recommend to you?”  The member next to him asked quietly.

“...Yes.”  

“And glasses can fix that.”  Matt told him, before turning back to Kolivan.  “If you let me make myself some glasses, I promise you, I’ll be able to throw knives all day long if you want me to.  I can’t guarantee I’ll hit the target every time, but I’ll be able to practice more efficiently if I can actually see what I’m doing.  And I’ll make glasses for any other members that need them, too.”

Kolivan crossed his arms.  “And if you are attacked by another opponent that breaks these glasses, as you were in the arena?  What will you do then?”

“If I can get access to certain chemicals, like polycarbonate and thermoplastic EVA, I can coat the glass in a reisin and heat it to make shatter-resistant lenses.”  Matt explained.    

Kolivan stared him down impassively, seeming to consider it for a minute or so.  “Fine.  Ulaz, take him to the lab and make sure he has what he needs there.  Presumably, by the time you have finished, your wounds will have healed more and you can begin training properly.”

Matt nodded.  “Yes, sir.”  

~~~~~~~

The Blade of Marmora’s laboratory was like something out of Matt’s wildest dreams.  The interior was all sleek white counters, stainless steel, and planes of light blue glass, with purple accents here and there.  The large lab seemed to be a cross between that of a chemist, engineer, and botanist; beakers and test tubes and centrifuges in one corner, diagrams and half-formed mechanical creations in another, and plants spilling out of pots on the shelves along the back wall.  The equipment was all state-of-the-art, at least by Earth’s standards, and Matt didn’t know what some of the machines even were just by looking at them.  He could only imagine what they did.  A few of the machines were in use, glowing and whirring quietly, but the lab seemed to be empty due to everyone being at morning training.

“This is amazing!”  Matt grinned, looking around in awe.  

“It is far smaller than the laboratories of the druids.”  Ulaz said.  “And the equipment is a bit dated.  But it is enough to suit our needs.  We have to manufacture everything ourselves here, from food to necessities to weapons and clothing.  We cannot afford to go too often to malls and the like and risk running into enemies.”  

“There are malls in space?”  Matt asked.  

“Of course.  We have long since passed the days of swap moons and trading markets.”  Ulaz said.  “Aside from the Blade, it is quite common for commercial goods to be purchased at malls, these days.”

“Wow,” Matt marveled.  “And you say this stuff is dated, but it’s way more advanced than what we have on Earth.  Look at this!  I don’t even know what this thing is!”  He said, examining a stocky machine on the corner of a counter.  

“It dispenses a drink that boosts energy.  Many members use it while they are working on long projects in here.”  Ulaz said, a hint of laughter in his voice.  “It is hardly scientific equipment.”

“Space-coffee maker.  Im _ press _ ive.”  Matt grinned.  Ulaz didn’t seem to catch the wordplay; Matt supposed pressing coffee beans might not be part of the space-coffee making process.  He wandered closer to the chemistry equipment, rubbing his hands together eagerly.  “Man, it’s good to be back in one of these places.  It’s been too long.  Alright, first thing’s first,” he picked up a test-tube and tapped it with a fingernail, testing it.  It certainly felt like shatter-resistant glass.  “Did you guys make these, too?  Or did you get them at a space mall?”

“I believe they were manufactured here.”  Ulaz went over to the engineering section and started looking over a number of drawers that were labeled in Galran writing.  After a few moments, he pulled one of the drawers out of its slot and brought it over to Matt.  “These are the materials for making more glass equipment.  Is this what you need?”  

Matt peered in the box.  He couldn’t read any of the labels, but he could see what looked like thermoplastic pellets and molds for various beakers, test tubes, and petri dishes, along with several bottles of chemicals.  “Yep, this should be good.”  He picked up the petri dish mold and turned it over in his hand, examining it.  “This… might work, for the lenses.  As long as there’s some kind of high-powered sander so I can sand it into a convex curve.”

“What about using scaultrite lenses as a mold?”  Ulaz asked.  “I believe we have some spare ones somewhere.”  

“What’s scaultrite?”  Matt asked.  

“The primary material for making the lenses used in a teleduv.”  Ulaz replied, searching the drawers again.

“Which is…?”

“The device used to travel via wormholes, invented by the Alteans.”  Ulaz said easily, taking a curved blue lens out of another drawer.

“You can  _ travel by wormhole _ ?!”  Matt asked, astonished.  

Ulaz blinked in surprise.  “For the past fifteen millennia or so, yes.  You cannot?”

“No we cannot.”  Matt said, still a little shocked.  

“I suppose it makes sense why Earthlings haven’t had much intergalactic contact, then.”  Ulaz said thoughtfully.  “My, we thought you were all just antisocial and willfully utilized an isolationist policy.”  He handed the blue lens to Matt, who was still trying to digest the fact that aliens had apparently been hopping through wormholes while humans were still learning to make weapons out of stone.  

Taking the scaultrite lens, he held it up to his eye; it would be big, but he could always cut it down.  Besides, he had always favored larger glasses for the better range of vision.  “And this can withstand heat?”  

“Perhaps only up to one-thousand degrees Celsius, the temperature of the teleduv beams.”  Ulaz said.  

“That’s more than enough.”  Matt said.  

They continued working like that for some time, Ulaz reading the Galran labels or locating what was needed based on Matt’s descriptions, and Matt working out a formula based on what he knew his prescription was.  He only had a basic understanding of how glasses were made, but it was enough to get him started, and trial and error would surely work out the rest.  He created a few thin lenses by melting the thermoplastic pellets between two scaultrite lenses, then while they were being heated together he started working on a plan for the frames.  He was at a loss on what to do, for that; the frames would need to be made of something sturdier than metal or ordinary plastic, something like safety glasses or sports goggles.  A similar material to the lenses themselves might work, but he would still need a mold to make them...  

Matt had sketched up and crossed out at least half a dozen ideas and was about ready to chuck his pen and graph paper at the wall in frustration when Ulaz came and looked at his work over his shoulder.  “Ah, if that’s what you’re making, why not just use the 4-D printer?”

Matt looked up.  “4-D?”  

“Well, the 3-D option on the 4-D printer.”  Ulaz said.

“What is the fourth dimension?” 

“Gravitational field density, of course.”  Ulaz said.  “Which I doubt you would want on your head.”

“No, you’re right.” Matt said.  He would definitely come back to that and play around with it for a different project, though.  

Ulaz showed him how the printer worked, and after Matt had taken a number of measurements of his head and face, he input the information into the computer system and made a three-dimensional model.  Just for fun, he added a couple drops of red colored dye to the thermoplastic mixture before putting it into the printer, so that the finished product looked like a pair of lens-less dark red frames.  By that time, the lenses had finished cooling, so he sat down at a work table and began sanding them down, holding them up every so often to look through and check the progress.  

After making sure Matt had the correct tools, there was little for Ulaz to do now that he didn’t need to read the Galran labels, so he sat across the work table from him and worked on the other lens, periodically handing it back to Matt to test it.  Mostly, though, he just watched the Earthling out of the sides of his eyes, admiring the way his hazel eyes lit up with intense focus as he babbled on about chemical components and molecular fusion.  When Matt determined the lenses had been sanded to the right thickness, he coated them in a chemical mixture he had whipped up (Ulaz still didn’t quite understand how he had done it, he just handed him the chemicals he asked for), popped them back in the heating and cooling machine, and finally fitted the lenses into the frames and sealed the plastic edges.  

“And that should do it.  Not the most fashionable glasses I’ve owned, but they should be much more durable.”  Matt said, turning the glasses around in his hands and examining them for a few moments.  He lifted them to his face and slipped them on, letting them rest on the bridge of his nose.  “Woah.”  He blinked, looking around in surprise.  “Okay, this place looks about ten times cooler now that I can actually see it.”  

“Then, they worked?”  Ulaz asked.  

“I think so,” Matt got up and jogged to the furthest end of the lab.  “Hold up some fingers,” he called out.

A bit puzzled, Ulaz held up both hands, fingers splayed.  

“Ten,” Matt grinned.  Ulaz put some fingers down.  “Seven… three… six…” he laughed joyfully.  “It worked!  Ha!  I can’t believe it!”  He walked back over to Ulaz with a spring in his step and a grin on his face.  Personally, Ulaz thought he looked a little bit silly with the strange device on his face, but if Matt could see now, that was alright.  Matt took the glasses off and turned them over in his hands, gears spinning in his mind.  “I’ll have to make a lot of adjustments for that other guy… what was his name?”

“Beybrok.”  

Matt nodded.  “For Beybrok’s glasses, since those will be for correcting farsightedness instead of nearsightedness.  And I’ll have to make up some tests and do some calculations to figure out his prescription… it might take a bit more time than this did.  Actually, it usually takes a week to make something like this back on Earth, but we did it in, what, five or six hours?  These machines are amazing.  So I may be able to have them ready in a few days to a week.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind the wait.”  Ulaz said.  “You’ll likely be required to attend regular training in the morning, but most afternoons members are free to work on other projects, such as working in the lab, more specific training, and planning espionage.  Provided Kolivan doesn’t assign you to extra training, I’m sure you’ll be able to come back here for your afternoons.”  

“I wouldn’t put it past him to do that,” Matt said, slipping the glasses back on.  “But I’ll look forward to coming back here.”   

After they cleaned everything up in the lab, they made their way back to the training deck for the last bit of morning training.  Kolvian arched an eyebrow at them as they approached, clearly not expecting them back so soon.  

“You look like a poorly-dressed Unilu pirate.”  He said, eyeing the glasses.  “Are you able to see, now?” 

“Crystal clear.”  Matt nodded.  Kolvian wordlessly handed him a practice knife.  This time, Matt didn’t need to squint at the target, and even though he missed the center of the bulls-eye, the blade at least landed on the target itself. 

Kolvian nodded, the only form of praise he gave.  “Work on your aim after lunch.”   

~~~~~~~

Matt found it fairly easy to settle into life at the Blade of Marmora headquarters.  The training every morning was a bit more than he was used to, since the druids had removed him from the fighting ring fairly early on, but he welcomed the exercise after being cooped up by Zerbek for so long.  He found that he was much more motivated to learn how to fight when he wasn’t being forced to do so for the entertainment of others but rather to protect himself and what he believed in.  He realized, by extension, that he was also fighting to protect his mother and sister, and everyone on Earth, from the Galra, and to find out what had happened to his father and Shiro.  

He did, occasionally, experience sudden flashbacks sometimes.  A sparring lesson could quickly bring him back to a life-or-death battle in the gladiator area and leave him with a racing heart and shaky hands, but the majority of the Blade members were well-acquainted with trauma and handled it well.  Kolivan warned him that an enemy would not stay their hand if he found himself debilitated in a real battle, but acknowledged that control over such fear was something that needed to be built up carefully, like a new muscle, or the effort would do more harm than good.  A few of the older members offered to help him learn to center himself during a flashback and overcome it long enough to survive the battle, and talked with him outside of training about his fears.  He found out that some of them had even been gladiators themselves, before they had escaped and joined the Blade.

In training, he quickly ran into the same problem he had faced in the gladiator ring; as a human, he was undeniably smaller than any Galra, which was a distinct and very important disadvantage.  They were also built differently, with a longer forearm-to-body ratio that gave them a much larger reach.  After losing several sparring matches with practice knives and swords, Matt was scouring the weapons rack when he found a quarterstaff made of the same strange, otherworldly metal that many of their other weapons used, about six and a half feet long, and tipped with luxite at the ends.  Like the ceremonial blades, there were a few glowing purple accents on it, and when he twisted one of the hand-grips near the center, purple-white electricity sparked out of the ends.  He grinned; this should improve his reach.  With the quarterstaff, he was able to hold his own much better in the next sparring match, and he only got better the more he practiced with it.  

Outside of training, he tended to throw himself into learning with so much rigor that it was reminiscent of his time in university or grad school.  In the afternoons, he spent much of his time in the lab working with the other Blades who frequented there, some who had even been scientists for the Empire before defecting.  After he finished making another pair of glasses -- Beybrok was very grateful, and very interested in the process -- he helped the other members with a variety of projects, from making more necessities to growing food to making new weapons.  Their technology and methods were far more advanced than Matt was used to, so he mostly functioned as an assistant, but he learned quickly and soon enough was starting his own projects trying to grow vegetables similar to those found on Earth to add to their meals.  He also spent a considerable amount of time learning how to read the Galran language, especially after causing a small explosion when he misread a label on a certain chemical.  

There were certain cultural differences between Galra and Earthlings, and those did take some getting used to.  They only ate two meals a day, which wasn’t difficult for him because he was still given more food than when he was a prisoner, but he was still very hungry by lunchtime.  Galra, apparently, did not sneeze, and they looked extremely alarmed the first time he did.  He wasn’t sure if all Galra were generally quiet and formal when speaking or if it was just in their group, but he sometimes had to reign himself in when he noticed he was speaking too much or too quickly.  

His feet, oddly enough, turned out to be a surprising point of interest, when Antok tried to give him his finished uniform a few days after his arrival, only to find that Matt had five toes on each foot instead of the usual two large ones.  Matt had put on the suit save for the mask, marvelling at the design, but then had picked up the strangely-shaped shoes and looked down at them, confused.  “Um, what are these?”

“Shoes.”  Antok replied.  

Matt glanced between the shoes and Antok.  The older Blade was, as always, wearing his mask, so Matt couldn’t see his expression.  He didn’t sound like he was joking, though.  Matt looked down at the shoes again.  “I don’t think these are going to fit…”  The shape reminded him of the dinosaur track fossils he had seen in the museum as a kid, with the front split into a V-shape.

“Just try them.”  Antok said.

Matt had, for the most part, been wearing the simple cloth shoes he had worn during his captivity, as he hadn’t been given other ones.  He sat down on the bench and pulled his left shoe off, looking at the new one doubtfully.

“Quiznak, what the hell happened to your feet?”  Antok asked, sounding concerned even through his voice-altering mask.  

“Nothing?”  Matt examined his feet, searching for anything unusual.  He wiggled his toes and found that they were all working fine.

Antok let out a surprised yelp.  “What are you  _ doing _ ?”  

Matt stared at him.  “Wiggling my toes?”

“Why are there so  _ many _ ?”  Antok somehow managed to convey a scandalized look even without the use of a facial expression.  

“Wait, how many toes do you have?”  Matt asked.  

“Two!”  

“Two?!”  Matt supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, given the appearance of the shoes, but it was still unexpected to hear it.  “I thought you just shoved them off to the side, like Japanese  _ tabi _ !”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what that is.”  Antok shook his head.  “You look like a Galra child born with Splikvak Syndrome, but worse.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what that is.”  Matt said, using the other man’s words.

Antok sighed, signalled only by a slump of his shoulders and a rush of air over the voice box of his mask.  “Alright, let me see your weird feet.  And don’t you dare wiggle those nubs at me.”

“What, like this?”  Matt smirked as Antok recoiled in mock horror.  

“Cease your witchcraft, Earthling.”  Antok laughed.  He measured Matt’s foot and examined the simple cloth shoe he had been wearing before.  “So, something shaped like this, but with more reinforcement.  Easy enough, if not unusual.  No wonder your footwork is a bit peculiar.  Alright, put those back on and I’ll make you some special shoes.”

“Where does he go to make those clothes?”  Matt whispered to a nearby Blade who was sharpening their knife, as Antok left the room.  

“No one knows.  Antok has a lot of odd secrets about him, like how he never removes his mask.  Hey, can I see your weird Earthling feet?”        

The Blade of Marmora suit, as well as the shoes when he finally got them, was surprisingly comfortable, easy to move in, and -- Matt thought privately -- incredibly cool-looking.  He felt like a character in a superhero movie or some futuristic video game.  Sometimes, when he looked at his life now, he felt that way beyond just the clothes.  When he was younger, just the idea of being an astronaut had seemed magical and unusual; even in his wildest dreams he had never imagined he would end up being abducted by aliens, be forced to become a gladiator, undergo months of physical and psychic torture, and then join up with and train to be a warrior with an alien resistance force.  It was a far, far cry from the life he had led on Earth, even during the excitement of the pre-Kerberos mission preparations.

There were stark reminders that this wasn’t just an action movie or a video game, though, however much it sometimes seemed like it was.  This was a real war.  Blade members trained to prepare themselves for outright battle on sabotage missions or for dangerous espionage missions.  Sometimes they didn’t come back.  Their numbers sometimes dwindled down to four or five, with some members out on missions or having been killed in the line of duty.  Other times, some members came back from longer missions, and once or twice there were even new recruits coming to join their ranks, but they never had more than fifty people on base at a given time.  With such a small community, it was easy for Matt to make friends and grow close to the other members, but that only made it more painful when someone didn’t return.  

His nightmares, for the most part, became a little less frequent with time, but they often resurfaced after they lost another Blade member.  After realizing that they both slept easier with someone beside them, he and Ulaz had continued sharing a bed at night, and steadily grew more and more comfortable with each other.  Matt often pressed close to Ulaz’s chest and concentrated on the feeling of his arms around him to ground himself after a nightmare, and Ulaz often buried his face in Matt’s hair and focused on breathing deeply to calm his own racing heart after one of his own nightmares.  Neither spoke about the horrors they had witnessed, but both understood the need to comfort and be comforted.  They were each other’s rock in the swirling storm of this war.  

Despite all the hardship and loss that came with being a member of the resistance, there were still moments of joy, of camaraderie, even peace scattered throughout their lives.  Listening to stories from members about their home planets, working together on some project, chatting over their meals, the rare occasions when Matt woke up before the morning alarm and could share a few quiet minutes with Ulaz...  It was those moments that Matt wanted to stretch into eternity.  

He should have known it wouldn’t last.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone were to draw Matt in the BoM uniform I would love you forever. Or with that scar on his face. Or just Matt in general.
> 
> Also you should check out [drist's](http://drisrt.tumblr.com/post/157419870461/answer-1-i-dont-know-if-keith-learned-anything) Dads of Marmora AU. It's super cute and where I got the inspiration to have Antok be the one who makes the uniforms. I mean, they've got to get them from SOMEwhere, hm? 
> 
> Sorry to leave it at a bit of a cliffhanger! Or not so much a “cliffhanger” as it is just vaguely ominous? (it’s not… that bad. Um. Yeah. *cough*)  
> I’ll try to update next weekend but I’m a bit busy for the next couple of weeks. My mom is visiting and I get to play coordinator/tour guide/translator/interpreter, so we’ll see how that goes. 頑張れ (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و
> 
> *EDIT* I noticed that everything past the link somehow disappeared, like... half a week after I posted it. Whoops. Always check your work, kids.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the final chapter! Thank you again for everyone who read this and left kudos and comments! This idea was kind of out there so I didn't know if anyone would like it, so it means a lot that people had such nice responses (^.^)
> 
> Warnings/tags updated now to include major character death, but to be fair it's off-screen and nothing that didn't happen in canon. (T^T) Ulaz left us all too soon

It wasn’t uncommon for Kolivan and Ulaz to retreat into one of the secure inner rooms, most often with a few other senior members, for strategy planning sessions or discussions about some of the more top-secret missions.  It was just something they did, as a leader and higher-ups.  As such, Matt didn’t think anything of it when Maliik told him Ulaz was in a meeting, and just went to the lab to work on the gravity generator they were building based on the design plans left by some genius named Slav.  

Whoever this Slav was, he seemed to be a bit paranoid, as every single entry of data he left was encrypted in a variety of ciphers.  A few months prior, when the others had shown him the notes, Matt had been surprised when he recognized one of the ciphers to be the Caesarian cipher, the same one he and his sister had used as kids to send secret messages to each other.  When he mentioned this, Matt had instantly found himself being placed in charge of decrypting all the notes Slav had left behind, and helping with the assembly of the inventions detailed in the notes.  Once he actually managed to decode the notes, he realized that this Slav person organized his data in the most meticulous way Matt had ever seen, which made it fairly easy to figure out the complex devices.  It was just wading through the tangle of cryptograms that was the problem, and Matt had to wonder, as he translated a paragraph that was half Caesarian, half Vigenère cipher, what would make someone this paranoid.   

He had been working on a gravity generator with a few other members for a couple of hours when Ulaz came by.  

“Matt, may I talk to you about something?”  He asked quietly.  Matt handed the machinery he was holding off to one of the others and followed Ulaz out of the lab, wondering what it was.  His curiosity only grew when Ulaz led him to one of the secure rooms, generally only used for strategy planning.  

“What is it?”  Matt asked once the door was closed.

Ulaz crossed his arms, looking troubled.  “We have located your friend Shiro.  He is on another one of the command ships.”  

Matt felt his breath catch and his heart stop beating for a moment.  “He’s alive?”

Ulaz looked down.  “He’s alive, but… the druids have him.  From what we can tell, they’re interested in turning him into a weapon.”

A cold feeling swept over him, like he had been doused in ice water.  “No…”

“It is likely they aren’t very far along in their process, though.”  Ulaz added quickly.

“That’s… a little reassuring,” Matt admitted, still doubtful.  He could tell Ulaz had intended that.  “Not much, but… it’s something, I guess.”

“Indeed.”  Ulaz nodded, the set of his lips in a tight line.  “We need to act quickly if we want to free him.  That is why I volunteered for this mission.  I will go to the command ship under the guise of a medic and rescue him.”  

“You’re bringing him here?”  Matt asked, heart fluttering with thin hope.

“No, unfortunately not.” Ulaz said.  “The situation on Earth has grown dire; your Galaxy Garrison is apparently getting frightfully close to locating Voltron, and their repeated contact with the Empire is worrying.  We need Shiro to return to Earth and warn them not to let Voltron fall into the wrong hands.  Perhaps after that, he will come and join us here.  He is a strong warrior and a skilled leader.  But first, we need him to return to Earth.”

Matt thought about it, his brow furrowing.  “Why didn’t you send me back to Earth, if you needed someone?  Why wait until you had found him?”

“We decided that you are needed here.”  Ulaz said.  “You are the only one who has been able to understand Slav’s notes, and your work on his inventions is critical to furthering our cause.”

Matt nodded, understanding.  “Then, when do you leave?”  

Ulaz looked away.  “As soon as possible.”  

Matt took a deep breath and released it slowly.  Of course.  Part of him wanted Ulaz to stay as long as he could, but another part of him knew that acting quickly was vital to rescuing Shiro.  “How long will you be gone?”  He asked.

“That depends on the druids’ progress and when the opportunity arises to free Shiro.”  Ulaz said.  “We have no way of knowing.”  

Matt was quiet for a few moments, teeth worrying his lower lip, then stepped forward and threw his arms around Ulaz in a hug.  “Come back safe, okay?”

“I will do my best.”  Ulaz murmured, one arm wrapping around him and his other hand coming up to brush through Matt’s hair.  

They embraced for a few minutes, then reluctantly parted.  Ulaz left to collect what he would need for the mission, and Matt went back to the laboratory.  No one questioned what they had talked about, nor why Ulaz was absent at dinner that night.  Sudden absences were common, and everyone knew what they meant.

~~~~~~~

Weeks went by.  Matt kept himself busy during the days with training and work in the labs.  He even got to participate in a mission himself; he and a few other scientists were dispatched to check the functionality of the gravity generators at several existing outposts and to set up a new outpost in the Andromeda galaxy with the generator they had built themselves.  Matt knew what the gravity generators did, of course, but looking at the equations on paper and seeing the device actually fold space-time with his own two eyes were quite different experiences. 

A few months passed.  Kolivan said that Ulaz had been in contact with him and had received periodic updates from him.  The druids had apparently operated on Shiro’s arm, replacing it with one of their cyborg prosthetics, but Ulaz had managed to free Shiro and send him back to Earth before they could operate on anything else.  When Matt asked if that meant Ulaz would be returning, Kolivan just told him he had given Ulaz a secondary assignment that he would be working on now that Shiro was taken care of, but that he was not allowed to know the details.  Matt knew this was standard protocol -- the less others knew about missions, the safer that information was -- but he was still frustrated by the lack of knowledge about Ulaz’s whereabouts or well-being.  

There were whispers among the group that this powerful weapon, Voltron, had been found.  Each Blade that returned from a mission brought with them more information on the situation. Apparently, the pieces of Voltron had been scattered and lost for thousands of years, but they had been gathered by someone.  They weren’t sure who, yet, or what they intended to do with this weapon.  Would they give it to Zarkon?  Use it to fight Zarkon?  They had no idea.  Matt wondered if that meant that Shiro had been successful in finding the weapon, or if he had failed and someone else had discovered it.  He hoped that if it was the Garrison, that they were at least smart enough not to hand it over to the Empire.  He also hoped that Shiro was at home and resting on Earth, and had maybe contacted Matt’s mother and sister to let them know that he and his father had been alive last he saw them, and what had happened to them.  He absently wondered what the Garrison had told them about their disappearance.  Surely they had thought the entire crew to be dead, so Shiro’s reappearance must have caused quite a stir.

More rumors about Voltron came, pieced together through their grapevine network of spies.  Two Alteans had survived and were leading Voltron in a resistance against Zarkon.  They weren’t sure of much else; it seemed the Alteans had a habit of jumping through wormholes any time someone got close to them, so it was impossible to get more detailed information on the pilots.  There was talk of teaming up with them, but that also brought the risk of exposing their group to more people, people they weren’t sure if they could trust yet.  

Kolivan, despite his cold exterior, could tell that Matt was worried about Ulaz, so he made it a point to tell him whenever Ulaz contacted him with a report.  He could not tell him what he was doing, only that he was alive, but it was enough to bring some semblance of comfort to Matt, even if it was small.  

During morning training one day, a sentry came and told them that the gravity generator at the Thaldicon communication outpost had collapsed.  Matt and three other scientists were sent out to the location, but it was far from the base and they arrived nearly a day after the collapse.  A large gap in the xanthorium crystals marked where they seemed to have exploded and deteriorated, almost as if there had been some large battle that had destroyed them.  There was little sign of the collapsed generator, aside from a gravitational anomaly where the device had been.  They were unable to access it to try to fix it, so they ended up leaving it be.  They didn’t dare to set up another one in the same location for fear that it had been intentionally destroyed by an enemy.  It was strange, Matt thought; when they had checked the generators a few months ago, it had been in perfect condition.  None of them were able to figure out what had happened to cause it to suddenly collapse like that.  

Several more months passed.  It had been a long time since Kolivan had heard from Ulaz, and Matt was growing worried.  His mother always said “no news is good news”, but he thought that wasn’t true, not in this case.  The others said Ulaz was just probably in a position where he was being watched and couldn’t send a message, but that wasn’t exactly a comforting thought.  Another agent whom Matt had not met yet but who was apparently stationed on Zarkon’s command ship, Thace, was also being watched by the druids.  The Empire was beginning to crack down on resistance forces, and even fewer Blades were making it back to the base alive.  Conversations at meals turned hushed and grim as more and more tables were left empty by missing members, and they were all growing tense and uneasy.  

~~~~~~~

Just after lunch one day, a sentry came running into the canteen while they were cleaning up.  “A ship is approaching the base!”  He called.  

Kolivan frowned.  “Sena, open a communication frequency and tell them to identify themselves.”  A woman nodded curtly and ran from the room.  “The rest of you, lockdown procedure.  Suit up, masks on, and secure level three coded rooms.”  

Dishes were left where they were as everyone hurried to seal off the corridors containing the sleeping quarters, training decks, and especially the lab.  Sena and Kolivan returned from the communications room and told them that two paladins of Voltron were planning to come aboard their base.  They claimed to have been sent by Ulaz, but that was all the information they had on them.  

Antok and another senior Blade member went up to meet the paladins when they landed, while the rest of them took their places lining the receiving hall, a secured room on the perimeter where new members were usually inducted.  Matt took his place on the steps of the dais to Kolivan’s lower left.  Ordinarily, that place was usually reserved for Ulaz and newer members typically were located further from the dais, but as Matt was noticeably shorter than the rest of the Galra-born members, the bit of extra height made him less conspicuous.  No one outside of their group needed to be aware that they had a human among them.  

Everyone stood at attention, masks on, when the two paladins were led in.  They looked to be the size of humans, but their helmets and visors obscured their features.  One wore white and black armor, and the slightly shorter one wore white and red armor.  Matt felt a shock wash over him when the one in black called out, “We are two of the paladins of Voltron, sent here by Ulaz.”

_...Shiro? _  Matt would recognize that voice anywhere.  But no, surely not… Shiro was back on Earth, Ulaz had sent him back… he should be safe, not fighting Zarkon. 

They drew closer, and Matt could make out their features a bit better.  It  _ was _ Shiro, recognizable even with a new scar slashed across his face.  Matt was tempted to run and hug him, or at the very least call out to him, but he held himself back.  This was a formal negotiation, and Kolivan would have his head if he jeopardized it in any way.  So he remained where he was, just watching carefully and his heart pounding in relief that Shiro was alive.  

The one in red was a hot-head, Matt could tell.  He had been foolish enough to bring a weapon with him, and near-silent gasps and murmurings started up when they all saw that it was one of their own.  He thought for a moment that the boy had stolen it from Ulaz, but the knife was much smaller than Ulaz’s blade.  He had never seen this one before, nor had many of the others.  The red paladin refused to relinquish the blade, and Kolivan told him he would have to complete the Trials of Marmora if he wanted to learn its secrets.  Matt had never heard of such a thing, but the rest of them seemed to know what he was talking about.  Kolivan told Antok to give him a Trials suit, and as he passed, Matt whispered to him that “his feet are like mine, give him my spare shoes.”  Antok nodded and led the red paladin away, and the rest of the members dispersed, murmuring something about battles.  Matt started to follow them, but Kolivan put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.  

“Come with us to the observation room.” He said.  “Besides, I believe you may have something to say to our other guest.”  

Matt looked at him.  “You mean…?”  

Kolivan nodded.  Shiro, to his credit, was looking between them apprehensively; it was a bit obvious he was being talked about.  Matt dissolved the hologram of his mask.  He meant to say something cool, but all he managed to get out was “Shiro…” before the black paladin’s mouth dropped open in shock and he lunged at Matt, throwing his arms around him.

“Matt, oh my god, you’re alive,” Shiro hugged him tightly, and Matt squeezed him back, feeling tears prick at his eyes.  Shiro pulled back enough to look at him, but kept his hands on his shoulders.  “What… what are you doing here?”

“I’m part of the Blade of Marmora.”  Matt explained.  

“And that is all you are permitted to say on the matter.”  Kolivan said pointedly.  

Matt nodded.  “Yes, sir.”  

Kolivan gestured toward the door.  “Come, the Trials will begin shortly.”  

“What are these trials?”  Shiro asked as the two of them followed the Marmora leader.  

“Honestly, I don’t know.”  Matt said.  Kolivan shot him a warning look.  “What?  I can’t tell him anything if I don’t know it.”

“And that is precisely why you do not.”  Kolivan told him, turning around to face the front.  Matt stuck his tongue out at the back of the leader’s head, while Shiro hid a grin behind his hand.  “I  _ saw  _ that, Holt.  Watch yourself.”  Kolivan said, tone sharp.  

They went to an observation room overlooking a training hall Matt had never seen before.  The red paladin, now dressed in some sort of suit that looked similar to their own uniforms, save for a few more glowing accents on it, entered through a door, knife in hand.  Shortly after, Antok came and joined them in the observation room.

The Trials of Marmora, as it turned out, involved the red paladin having to fight and defeat an increasing number of their members.  First one, then two, then three… he kept going and going, even though he was clearly growing tired.  

“How long does this go on?”  Shiro asked.

“Sometimes the greatest challenge is knowing when to stop.”  Kolivan replied.  

“He’ll never stop trying.”  Shiro told him.

“There are only two ways for this to end.  Knowledge, or death.”  Kolivan said.  

Matt thought about his words as he watched the red paladin battling seven opponents.  He inched closer to Kolivan and leaned up to whisper as close to his ear as he could get.  “Hey, how come you guys didn’t push this ‘knowledge or death’ thing when I joined?”  He asked in an undertone.  

“You  _ had  _ knowledge that we wanted, he seeks knowledge that we have.”  Kolivan explained.  

“By this logic, we would have had to all defeat  _ you  _ in battle.”  Antok added.

“Yeah, that would not have gone well for me.”  Matt said, watching as the red paladin got slashed across the shoulder by an opponent’s blade.

“That is what we concluded as well.”  Antok nodded.  

Matt frowned at the implication.  “Rude.”

“You think you could have taken on all of us, in that state you arrived in?”  Antok asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.  

“No.”  Matt admitted.  He had come to them with no formal training, little fighting experience, hazy with the residual effect of the drugs Zerbek had given him, and malnourished from months in captivity.  He could hold his own in a fight now, but back then, even their weakest member would have crushed him in under a minute.  “Still rude, though.”  His words just earned him a chuckle from Antok.

Matt had to admire the red paladin’s tenacity.  He was still managing to hold his own against nearly a dozen Blades, although it was obvious he was growing tired.  Matt was surprised when he threw his knife at the trapdoor to block it before jumping through, and even Kolivan and Antok seemed impressed.  He expected there to be more battles, but no more Blades came through the door when the red paladin collapsed in the middle of the hall.  

Shiro tensed when the boy made no intention of getting up.  “I’m going down to him.”  

“You will not.”  Kolivan said curtly, hardly sparing him a glance.  “The Trials are still in session.”

“He’s  _ unconscious _ .”  Shiro said.

“The Trials are not merely physical.”  Kolican told him.  “Now, he is facing the mental battle.  Interfering will do more harm than good.” 

Shiro only seemed to grow more worried when an image of himself appeared in the hall as the red paladin awoke.  It  _ looked  _ like Shiro, but the cold expression on his face was something Matt had never seen before… it looked  _ wrong _ .  Kolivan explained that it was a hologram generated by the suit, displaying what the wearer desperately wanted to see.  They watched as the red paladin and the hologram-Shiro had an argument, the real Shiro growing more and more tense with every word.  Even though Matt didn’t know the story between the two of them, he knew Shiro would never say those things to anyone; he could never be that cold or cruel.  The hologram-Shiro turned his back on the red paladin and walked away, and he ran after him, calling out his name, before collapsing again.

Shiro stiffened, his brow creasing as he looked down at the collapsed paladin on the floor.  He looked to be in pain, his features twisting even as he remained unconscious.  “What’s happening to him?”   

“What he is facing is a product of his own mind.”  Kolivan said.  “His own greatest doubts and fears.”  

Shiro’s jaw tightened.  He did not look happy about that.  Matt reached down and touched his hand, squeezing reassuringly.  Several minutes passed in silence.  

Suddenly, a crash echoed from outside, shaking the entire base.  

“Leader!  The Red Lion is attacking the base!”  A Blade shouted, running in.

“It has a link with Keith, it knows he’s in danger!  It’s coming for him!”  Shiro explained.  Without waiting for any sort of permission, he ran from the room and down to where his friend was as the walls continued to shake.  By the time the rest of them caught up with him, he was helping the red paladin to his feet.  

Kolivan demanded the red paladin surrender the blade, having to shout over the crashes echoing from outside the base.  Shiro dropped into a fighting stance, his right hand  _ glowing  _ \-- how was it  _ doing  _ that? -- and Matt froze where he stood.  If there was a fight, whose side would he take?  He had to fight with the Blades, but he couldn’t attack his friend… 

Luckily, the red paladin spoke up, saying that he would give up the knife.  When he did, it began to glow, emanating purple light so bright it nearly blinded them all.  When it faded, the knife had grown to the long, scimitar-like blade that the rest of them carried.  Kolivan explained, in an awed voice, that this could only be possible if Galra blood ran through his veins.  Matt didn’t know what to make of that, and clearly no one else did either, based on the hushed whispers around the room.  Shiro looked stunned, staring wide-eyed at his friend, who looked just as shocked.  

Another earth-shattering crash shook the walls of the base, making them stumble.

“Call off your beast!”  Kolivan ordered.  “We mean you no harm now!”

“Keith.”  Shiro gave him a meaningful look.

“Yeah, I…” he closed his eyes, looking like he was concentrating.

“What is he doing?”  Matt asked.

“We have mental links with our lions.”  Shiro explained.  “He’s telling her he’s okay.”  

Soon enough, the shaking subsided as a low growl echoed from outside.  The Red Lion was standing down, for now, but did not seem happy.  The red paladin opened his eyes, nodding once to himself.  

“Did you mean what you said?”  Shiro asked Kolivan, eyeing him carefully.  “About meaning us no harm?”

“We cannot harm one of our own.”  Kolivan explained.  “If he was able to awaken the blade, he is a member by heritage.  It is extraordinarily rare, but possible.”

“But… what does that mean?”  The red paladin asked, looking down at the blade in his hand.  “Was… one of my parents… Galra?”

“They must have been.”  Kolivan said.  “I do not know who, though.”   

“Come, we should treat that wound on your shoulder, and then I will show you to the room where your paladin armor is.”  Antok said, gesturing for the red paladin to follow.  He looked a little wary, no doubt because he had just had a dozen Blades attacking him, but followed anyway, gripping his shoulder.  

“Hey, Shiro,” Matt approached his friend.  “You said… you said Ulaz told you to come here.  So, you saw him?”

Something like regret flashed across Shiro’s face quicker than Matt could catch, then it was gone and his expression was carefully neutral again.  “Yeah.  He somehow got aboard our ship, but when he realized who we were, he stopped attacking us.  He gave me the coordinates to the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters, before he…”

“Before he what?”  Matt asked when Shiro trailed off.  “Is he… okay?”  His heart clenched with worry; if Ulaz was okay, why had he not accompanied them to the headquarters himself?

“He’s… he’s gone.”  Shiro said somberly.  “He gave his life to save us.”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat and he suddenly felt cold.  “Ulaz is… dead?”

Shiro nodded.  “I’m sorry.  We were battling one of Haggar’s robeasts at the outpost in the Thaldicon system, and he… he went inside the beast and opened the space fold from within, making the whole thing collapse in on itself.  He saved our lives, but… he didn’t make it out.”  

Matt stumbled back to rest against the wall, feeling numb.  Ulaz was gone.  He wouldn’t be returning to the base.  He was just… gone.  Matt remembered when the heard about the gravity generator collapse in the Thaldicon system; they had been there not even a day after it had happened.  And Ulaz had been dead that whole time?  He… his body had been so close to them, separated only by a pocket of space-time, but they hadn’t been able to access it.  They would never be able to retrieve his body, if there was even anything left after the weight of the folded space crushed him.  Thinking about it was almost too much to bear, yet Matt couldn’t seem to stop.    

Kolivan rested a hand on his shoulder, his jaw set tightly.  “I warned him not to let himself grow too attached.”  He said softly.  “The survivor is the one who must bear the brunt of the loss.”  He squeezed Matt’s shoulder briefly, then let him be while he went to go talk to Antok.

“...Matt?”  Shiro’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.  He looked up to find his friend looking down at him, concerned.  

“Sorry,” Matt scrubbed at his eyes as if he could push the tears back into them.  He concentrated on his feelings as if they were a tangible object, placing them in a box and locking them away to be dealt with later, in private.  Just the same as his fear when he had a panic attack in the middle of fighting.  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.  “I’m fine.”  

Shiro didn’t look entirely convinced; undoubtedly he used a similar tactic himself.  “Did you… know Ulaz?”

A rush of air left Matt’s nose, the barest hint of a laugh devoid of any humor.  Oh, he knew him.  “You could say that.”  

Shiro looked curious, but thankfully didn’t press the issue.  “Matt, come back to the Castle of Lions with me and Keith.”  

Matt shook his head.  “My place is here.”

“But your sister has been searching for you.”  Shiro said.  “Don’t you want to see her?”

“I can’t go back to Earth just yet.  There’s still so much I can do with the Blade--”

“Katie isn’t on Earth.”  Shiro said, cutting him off.  Matt looked up.

“What?”

“She’s a paladin of Voltron.  The green paladin.”  Shiro said.  

“She’s… what?”  Matt shook his head.  “No, she’s supposed to be at home, safe…”  He trailed off, slumping against the wall again.  He tipped his head back, eyes closed.  “I want to see her, Shiro.  God, do I ever.  But I can’t.  I’m needed here, I can’t just up and leave.”  

“What about a short visit?”  Kolivan spoke up.  Matt and Shiro both looked over at him, wondering how long he had been listening in on them without them noticing.

“A… visit?”  Matt questioned, not understanding.  Blades did not ‘visit’; if they had any family left, they stayed away to keep them safe.  They left the base only for missions or occasional supply runs, when they needed something that couldn’t be made on base.  

Kolivan nodded.  “We have deemed it beneficial to hold a meeting with Princess Allura.  We cannot afford for our two resistance fronts to clash with each other.  It is risky, joining two alliances like this, but we need all the help we can get when fighting against Zarkon.”  He looked at Matt.  “I am going aboard the Castle of Lions to meet with the princess.  I would appreciate if one of my scientists would accompany me to explain our weapons and devices, if needed.  We will likely have several vargas after the meeting to do with as you please, before the solar flares open up again.”  

“Really?”  Matt could hardly believe his luck.

“Unless you think I ought to bring someone else along instead…” Kolivan pretended to be thinking it over.

“No, no, I’ll do it.”  Matt said quickly.

Kolivan nodded.  “Good.  Then go get those blueprints of our recent projects from the lab.  We’ll be leaving shortly.”  

“Yes sir,” Matt grinned, and practically sprinted through the corridors to fetch the blueprints.  

~~~~~~~

“Princess, we’re on our way back,” Shiro spoke into his com system.  “And we’re bringing someone you should meet.”  The corner of his lips twitched up in a smile as he looked over at Kolivan and Matt, the latter of whom was nearly bouncing on his toes in excitement.  

The red paladin, who had introduced himself to Matt as Keith, glanced at him while he expertly steered the red lion along the narrow path.  “You really do remind me of Pidge.  She bounces when she’s excited too.”  He chuckled.

“Pidge?”  Matt asked, confused. 

“Oh yeah, Katie snuck into the Garrison under the alias of Pidge Gunderson to try and figure out what happened after they announced that the Kerberos mission was lost.”  Shiro said.  “The name kind of stuck.”  

Matt laughed.  “That sneaky little… I bet she hacked her own records into existence to get in, too.”  

“Seems like it.”  Shiro chuckled.  

“What did they say happened to us?”  Matt asked Shiro.

The black paladin sighed.  “Something about ‘pilot error’.  All crewmembers lost.  All information on the mission became top secret.  Not that that stopped your sister from hacking into Iverson’s computer to look for the truth.”  

“With a flimsy story like that, I’m not surprised she wasn’t fooled.”  Matt said, smiling softly.  As much as he wanted her to be safe at home, he was proud of his sister; out wreaking havoc and saving the universe.

When they finally docked on the castle-ship, the remaining members of Team Voltron were waiting for them in the red lion’s hangar.  As soon as the doors opened, Matt immediately picked out his sister.  She was wearing the same paladin armor as the others, this time in green, and she had chopped her hair short and had taken to wearing glasses (were those  _ his  _ old glasses?  What was she doing with them?)

Kolivan kept his mask on, but Matt didn’t bother.  He was about halfway down the ramp when Katie spotted him, let out a loud gasp, and charged at him from the other end of the hangar.  She collided into his open arms with so much force that they both fell to the floor, laughing.

“You’re alive… oh my god, you’re… you’re  _ alive _ …” She held him in a bone-crushing hug.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Matt teased, hugging her back. 

“I presume that is the sister Matt spoke of, and not one of your paladins attacking my Blade.”  Kolivan said to Allura, eyeing the two siblings that were still on the floor.  Allura, however, looked surprised by her paladin’s behavior.  

“Yep.”  Shiro chuckled.  “Let him breath, Pidge.”  

“I have a  _ year  _ of brother hugs to get out of my system.”  Pidge told him, rubbing her eyes.  “You can’t pry me away from him.”  

“No one is going to.”  Matt reassured her, sitting up to hug her a little easier.  

Kolivan bent down and plucked up the tube full of rolled-up blueprints, dropped when Pidge ran into Matt.  He dissolved his mask as he straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Princess Allura, I would like to discuss an alliance between our two groups.  Matt, I will notify you if I require you for further explanation, but I think I can handle this myself.  Enjoy your visit.”  He said, then left with the princess.  Matt smiled; the Blade leader might act tough and uncaring sometimes, but he knew it was just a front.

Katie pulled back from the hug, still gripping his shoulders as her gaze raked over his face and his Blade uniform.  “What happened?  How did you get… here?”  

Matt smiled ruefully.  “Long story short: got abducted by aliens, became a gladiator, stopped being a gladiator for a while, Ulaz--” he broke off, grief squeezing his heart at the mention of Ulaz, but he quickly composed himself and cleared his throat.  “Um, Ulaz busted me out, and I joined the Blade of Marmora.”  

“Long story  _ long _ ,” Katie said, pulling him to his feet.  “I wanna hear  _ everything _ .”  

~~~~~~~

They went to a room on the castle-ship where there was a circle of couches, almost like a living room.  Katie, Matt, and Shiro all sat together and talked for hours, sharing their experiences and filling in each other’s gaps in their stories.  Matt didn’t know where the other three paladins had gone, but he appreciated them giving the three of them some privacy to talk.  There were some things they chose not to share; Matt didn’t go into detail of his time with Zerbek, not wanting to worry them even more.  Shiro said there were many gaps in his memory of his own captivity, likely due to either trauma or something the druids had done.  Matt didn’t know what was better, being able to remember what had happened to him or not having to relive those moments in his memories.  

They had been talking for many hours by the time Kolivan and Allura came to find them.  

“We have only a few vargas before the solar flares obscure the path back to headquarters.”  Kolivan told him.  

Matt nodded and turned back to the other two.  “I guess we’ll be leaving soon.”

“Can’t you stay?”  Katie asked.  

Matt shook his head sadly.  “I’m sorry.  I would love to stay with you.  But there’s so much I can do with the Blade… I wouldn’t feel right if I was just sitting around on this ship, rather than be working to take down Zarkon.”

“I guess you’re right.”  Katie said quietly.  She hugged him tightly again.  “Promise you’ll stay safe, though.”

“I think I’m safer working in a lab on a base hidden between two black holes than you are flying around in a giant robotic lion.”  Matt said.  “Be safe, Katie.  No getting into any fist-fights with Zarkon.”  

“She managed to get in a fist-fight with Haxus and came out alright,” Shiro chuckled.  “Your sister’s a tough one.  You both are.”

“You too,” Matt said, hugging him as well.  “You be safe too.  Both of you, all of you.”  

After one last long hug between the Holt siblings, Matt joined Kolivan as they made their way over to the airlock, where Antok was waiting for them with a cruiser to take them back to headquarters.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stands in a half-submerged hollowed-out log with a hatchet* “...I can’t believe I sank my own ship.” 
> 
> Part of me wants to bring Ulaz back with some fancy futuristic space science miracle stuff, but another part of me is saying to be strong and accept canon character death as it is. (T^T)و
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who read/left kudos/commented! Also if there's any interest in it I miiiiight have some more relationship-centered bits that didn't make it into this cut that may get posted. Let me know if you'd be interested in such a thing

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it!


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